The Passenger Book 2: Chameleon
by T. Fowler
Summary: While River begins to undergo treatment to repair the damage wrought by the Alliance, Camille and Mal try to deal with the chasm between them.
1. Chapter 1

Simon walked carefully through the unfamiliar hallway of Garrison's immense base camp. The place reminded him much of the schools back on Osiris. Technologically advanced, open, spacious. The grounds were beautiful, the rooms plush and comfortable, and everything was clean.

It should have felt like home, but home was a distant memory. And, in some ways, Serenity was more his home than any other place had ever been. All he'd been through had made him what he was today, and, truthfully, Simon liked who he was. Yes, if he had a choice, he'd give up everything just to have his sister back, but if were to make do with what he had, finding Serenity and Mal and his crew had been a Godsend.

Of course, that was when Mal wasn't pitching a fit and being a chun zi. He hated being lied to, Simon knew that. And he didn't give his heart easily. And yet, somehow, Camille had managed to worm her way in. And when Mal had discovered the lie...

Truth be told, when it all came out and Fredrick had explained who and what Camille was, Simon wasn't surprised. The resemblance between her and his sister had been there all along, nagging at him. No, they weren't identical. Camille, though bright, wasn't the genius River had been and still was. And she was bolder, more sarcastic, more like Mal. A soldier, one who'd never been in a real war, perhaps, but one who'd survived the horrors of war just the same.

Maybe that's why Mal had been drawn to her. She was a solider, tough, resourceful and brilliant, wrapped in a beautiful package. Irresistible, especially if one wasn't having brotherly feelings towards her.

Mal's feelings weren't brotherly. Unfortunately, like Simon, Mal was having problems dealing with the idea of people like River and Camille having overloaded sex-drives. Simon knew what his problem with it was because, shang di, what brother wanted to think of his sister as being sexually insatiable? But Mal had different reasons for being upset and Simon had yet to untangle the mess that was Mal's psyche.

Simon pressed the computerize panel on the wall to verify that he was going in the right direction. "I'm looking for Camille," he told it.

"Agent CAM-462 is in treatment room three. Blue, blue, green, blue." Lights began flashing on the wall in the pattern the computer had described. Simon followed them, noticing the subtle changes of the hallway and surroundings as he left the dorms and entered the hospital wing. The carpets disappeared and the lighting changed somehow. The air, also, took on the sterile, antiseptics smell that all hospitals had.

"Treatment room three," the computer announced. The pattern stopped.

"Thank you," Simon said distractedly. He knocked on the door, unsure of how things worked around here. Garrison had assured them that they were all welcome anywhere within the base, but, generally, treatment rooms were reserved for doctors and their patients. He had sought Camille out at River's insistence.

"Come in," an unfamiliar voice called.

Simon opened the door. "I hope I'm not... interrupting." He frowned and entered the room slowly.

A very pretty female doctor looked up from Camille's arm. She was holding a dermal mender over Camille's lacerated arm. Obviously, the bulk of the surgery was done, because Camille was slowly clenching and unclenching her hand, testing her mobility.

"Dr. Tam, welcome. Please, have a seat," the woman said. "I'm Dr. Irene Douglas."

"Um. Hi." He looked around the room, trying to understand what he was seeing. It wasn't like any treatment or exam room he'd ever seen before, and he'd been in quite a few in his lifetime.

To start with, it looked more like a bedroom than a place to perform medical procedures. Yes, it had the sterile smell, the computers and equipment and all the accoutrements one normally found in a treatment room. But, where most such rooms consisted of equipment and a cot or bed and perhaps a chair or two, this one had three couches, a video monitor, a book shelf, and a music system. The walls were blue and decorated with paintings and lamps that looked like candles that were held in elegant sconces. There was no carpeting, but there were pillows scattered around and the floor was a soft, cream colored rubber instead of hard tile.

And there were people in the room, non-medical people, who seemed to be lounging around without purpose. Two of the people--"kids", Simon understood the patients here were almost universally referred to, no matter what their age--were playing a game of cards. They were being watched narrowly by the nurse helping Dr. Douglas, as if he expected the kids to break out into a riot at any moment. A third kid was stretched across a sofa, book in hand. His startling blue-green eyes were on Simon, a sort of lazy and appreciative smile on his face. He seemed to be staring right through Simon, and Simon didn't appreciate that he was probably being read without his permission.

The bed Camille was lying on looked like your standard operating table, only it was plush and comfortable-looking. She sitting up, as if on a deck chair, a black visor over her eyes. The garment she was wearing was clearly designed for easy access during medical treatments, but it looked to be made of a soft cotton and the cut was flattering.

"You look like you have questions, Dr. Tam."

"Well, yes. My sister is going to be... treated soon, and I guess I'm concerned with what and how it's going to happen." He looked around the room; the boy--Prophet; Camille had introduced him as Prophet--was still looking at him. "Is it generally this... social?"

Dr. Douglas nodded. "For the most part, yes. It depends on the student, and the procedure being done, but every room at the base is open to everyone all the time. Even treatment rooms."

"Isn't it rather unorthodox? What about doctor-patient confidentiality?"

Prophet snorted. "On a moon full of mind readers?" he asked sardonically. His head tilted. "Or do you think the illusion of secrecy is so important to maintain that one should overlook reality?"

Simon blinked. "I was speaking of confidentiality, not secrecy."

"Same difference."

"No, not really. Secrecy implies something needs to be hidden. Confidentiality means that something is kept private unless the subject is willing to share it with those around her."

Prophet closed his book, holding his place with his long, elegant fingers. Leaning forward so his arms rested on his knees, holding his weight, he asked, "But why would the subject feel the need to keep something as trivial as her health from her friends?"

"There are some things that... some people want to keep, or do not in front of an audience."

Prophet's smile was breathtaking. "She's not having a pelvic exam, Doctor. And, if she were, we're at her head, not her more delicate areas."

"You see the problem," Dr. Douglas said.

Simon looked at her. "Vocabulary?"

Prophet snorted, but Dr. Douglas answered, "Not exactly. More like trust. Everything that was done to these kids was done in secrecy. They weren't told what was being done to them, it was just done. They were taken into rooms and operated on by people whose faces they never saw. They weren't allowed to talk to one another unless it was business. Prophet never saw anyone else after his treatments began."

"Objection, your honor," Prophet said lazily. "The word treatment indicates that it was either a treat or something helpful. What was done to me was neither and I resent the implication."

Dr. Douglas rolled her eyes. "Withdrawn."

"Don't patronize me."

"Don't read my mind," she replied evenly. She looked back at Simon. "Everything we do here is designed to keep the kids as calm and relaxed as possible, otherwise..."

"We kill them."

"Anything we do to help them isn't effective. Besides, they've been through so much and..."

"Can be used to fight Garrison's little holy war against the Alliance."

"Need to get their abilities under control, or they self destruct." Dr. Douglas sighed and shook her head. "I've been here since the beginning and before we really understood what was going on, we lost a few kids."

Simon nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. Prophet was pretending to read now, and the other two were cleaning up their game. "How do you keep a sterile environment?"

"Well, they aren't allowed to touch any of the equipment."

"You trust them?" Simon glanced back at Prophet a bit pointedly.

Prophet made a crude gesture, as if to show what he enjoyed doing with the equipment when no one was watching.

"Not especially," Dr. Douglas said. "Everything here is under surveillance, but they all know that. We need to watch them and they are welcome to watch us. There's nothing here that is off limits, but until we're sure that the Alliance's programming won't kick in and force them to do something either to themselves or anyone else, we need to keep an eye on them. So we know if someone has been fellating the medical equipment, and when he's just saying he has to shock the pretty new face in the room."

"Oh, bite me," Prophet gripped.

Simon had another concern. "Everything is under surveillance?"

"Well, not exactly. Bedrooms and bathrooms are monitored for heartbeat and respiration, but are not recorded by camera. We all want some privacy, after all, and the kids, well. Their private lives are already public enough; we don't need to turn anyone into voyeurs or stars of pornographic cinema."

"Although some of us would do really well in smutty movies," said Prophet. "Where are you two going?" he asked as the two card-playing kids stood.

"Bored," one, a dark-haired girl, said. "I was hoping that Camille would talk, but she's made it clear that she's not going to talk to us."

"Damn right," Camille said, eyes still covered by the visor.

"Come on, Cam," the other one--a blond--wheedled. "What's going on between you and Garrison?"

"Tabitha, I though you were so sick of hearing about Garrison that you would be forced to drive a metal stake through your ears should I ever speak about him again."

The blond rolled her eyes and rose from her chair. "That was before."

"Before?" Camille sounded bored. She raised her hand to the visor and pushed a button on the side. "Nothing's changed."

"Something has totally changed," the dark-haired girl said. "Why?"

"Maybe I've gotten over him?"

"The current poll claims hell would freeze over before that happened," Tabitha replied.

"Get out your ice skates, girls."

"See?" Tabitha looked pointedly at Prophet. "Jasmine and I figured we'd go see the new kid. Wanna come?"

Prophet shook his head. "I'll stay with my bian se long. You two run off and have fun. See you at dinner."

"All right. See you, Camille," Tabitha said.

"And don't think we're not going to find out everything," Jasmine replied. She took Tabitha's hand and they left the room.

As soon as the door closed, Camille ripped off the visor and tossed it aside. "Finally. The stupid movie ended fifteen minutes ago. I've been dying for them to leave."

"Why didn't you say anything, xin ai? I would have gotten rid of them." Prophet rose and came to stand next to Simon at Camille's bedside.

Camille looked up at him. "My powers aren't quite back to normal yet. I didn't want to risk sending the message and having it hit them."

"Since when do you care about people's feelings?"

Simon raised an eyebrow, surprised; even though Camille could be a bit of a brat, she'd never seemed inconsiderate of others.

"It's hard to keep secrets about how you feel about other people around here," Camille said, meeting Simon's eyes. "You know those private thoughts you have, where you just get angry or frustrated with someone and all this poison just starts bubbling in your brain?"

"Yes."

"It's hard to keep the other kids from hearing it sometimes. So we all try to be very honest."

"If we're not honest with each other," Prophet said, "we become nothing but lies." He glanced at Camille. "At least, those of us who are allowed out of the house, do."

Camille shook her head and gave Simon a "just ignore the idiot" look. "Anyway, we all learned to be extremely honest with one another about our feelings. And to try and grow a thick skin. It doesn't stop us from being hurt sometimes, but as long as we learn to distinguish between thoughts that are heavily influenced by our current emotional state and actual feelings that aren't going away, it's not as bad as it could be."

"I see," Simon said.

"All right." Dr. Douglas out the mender down. "Done. How does your arm feel?"

"Great. As good as new." Camille lifted it slowly, opening and closing her hand.

Dr. Douglas took Camille's hand and opened it. "I'm going to test to make sure you have feeling. Do you mind if I prick you with a needle?"

Camille sighed. "No; go right ahead." Her other hand shot out, though, seeking Prophet's.

He took it and held it in his, his thumb slowly caressing her knuckles.

The doctor carefully pricked each of Camille's fingers, then the center of her palm. Camille reacted normally, although the simple test seemed to distress her more than it should. Simon watched, concerned.

"Okay. Your pain receptors are acting normally." She put the probe on a tray. Next, she ran her index finger down the center of Camille's palm.

Camille curved her fingers in. Her body shuddered slightly, and relaxed. "That feels good."

"It was supposed to. Very good; your arms is fine. Now let's talk about your head. Can you read anyone's mind?"

"A little. Like through fog. I can't get a clear read."

Dr. Douglas rose and crossed the room. Opening a cabinet, she said, "We've cleaned your blood of the sedative, so it might just be disuse or a lingering affect. I'm going to give you a shot. It will stimulate your temporal lobe should bring your powers back online." Returning with the hypodermic needle, Dr. Douglas carefully sterilized the spot. "I'm giving you the injection now." She glanced up at Simon. "We're very careful, here, to explain every step as we do it." She gave Camille the shot. "We want the kids to feel fully prepared and involved in what's going on."

"Never mind we can read their minds and already know," Prophet said.

"Again, we do this so the kids know that we are honest with them about everything and will never do anything without their knowledge." Dr. Douglas was very good at pretending that Prophet hadn't spoken; Simon got the feeling that it was something she had to do a lot. "I'd like to say that we never do anything without their permission, but that isn't true. Many of them, especially in the beginning of their stay here, refuse treatment of any kind. They fight us. Some continue to fight even after they come to understand that we're here to help. What the Alliance did to them was so traumatizing, that they probably will never trust anyone again, not just doctors." She stood and put the medical equipment away.

"River hasn't been able to tell me exactly what happened to her," Simon said. "I know they cut into her brain and made her a psychic and…"

"These kids all had psychic powers before entering the program," Dr. Douglas interrupted. "They weren't made this way."

Shock made Simon lose his words. River had always been a reader. All of them had. There were so many, he'd counted at least forty in all, and he knew that Garrison had yet to free all of the children who'd been experimented on at the academy. Where had all these psychics come from?

Camille slid off the chair. "That's their theory, at any rate," she said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "I personally don't remember reading no one's mind before the Alliance took me to their special school."

"Camille, we've been over this before. You know…"

"Oh, shut up," she snapped.

"Camille." Simon put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "You needn't be rude."

"You're not my brother. Don't act like it." Then she closed her eyes tightly and said, "I'm sorry. I'm just…"

"She gets cranky when someone forces her powers to wake back up," Prophet said. He was rubbing her neck soothingly, his hand occasionally brushing against Simon's. "Don't mind her."

Camille sighed and squeezed the bridge of her nose. "Doctor, can I go?"

"Of course. I recommend that you eat something before dinner, just to help absorb the drug. If you start feeling anything unusual, please find a doctor."

"I will." She swallowed. "Thanks." Turning, she looked at Simon. "Are you staying, or coming with me?"

"I'll come with you. Thank you, Doctor."

Dr. Douglas smiled. "I'll see you at dinner."

Simon followed Prophet and Camille into the hallway. They were standing very close, and Prophet had his arm around her waist. The closeness and constant contact was something very common here; Simon had noticed it right away. When given a briefing on Camille and her condition by Garrison right after she'd been sedated on Firefly, he'd explained that physical contact helped all the kids focus their physic abilities and relax them. It explained a lot about Camille and her behavior aboard Serenity.

Unfortunately, Mal was taking everything the wrong way. He believed that because Camille craved intimacy, she didn't care whom it was with. And, in some ways, it was true; when upset or shaken, she threw herself at whomever was closest and attractive. But her feelings and attraction for Mal was more than a simple, biological and emotional need for another mind to connect with. Everything she felt for him was a real and genuine as his feelings were for her.

"How is everyone settling in?" Camille asked Simon.

He nodded. "Well. We're all together, which is nice. I mean, in the same hall, not the same room. But close by. And close by your room as well, from what I understand."

She nodded. "Good. I'm glad. I mean, I want to be there for River when things start to get, you know. Harder. And I'm used to you all by now." Camille frowned, looking sad. "I'd hoped to get to fly with you a bit longer. I guess I'll take this."

Simon took Camille's hand and squeezed. "It'll get better, Camille. He'll…"

"I'm sorry, by the way," she interrupted. "About almost raping you. I shouldn't have lost control like that."

"You tried to rape him?" Prophet looked Simon up and down very slowly. "Well. I can see why."

Simon felt his face heat.

"Is he the reason that you and Garrison seem to be on the outs? I mean, he actually went to kiss you, and you turned away. That has never happened in the history of the Chameleon; you've been all over him practically since you were created. What's changed?"

"Not Simon." She glanced at him. "No offense."

"Believe me, none taken," he replied. Then, at Prophet's look, he said, "I think of her as a sister. The ordeal they went through affected them in some of the same ways, and ever since I met her, I saw River in her. Having sex with Camille would be wrong in many, many ways."

"Do you think that'll carry for the rest of the kids here?" Prophet asked. "It's a little rude to think you can waltz in here looking like you do and think you're above sleeping with us."

He really had no clue how to answer that. "I… I don't see it at all as a matter of being above you," he stammered. "And I don't know how I'll respond to you individually. I just know that I felt brotherly towards Camille and when she came on to me, was highly uncomfortable." Wanting to end the conversation right now, he looked at her and said, "River sent me to find you."

"I'm on my way to see her. Are you coming, or are you going to find more people to question about how things work?"

"I think I'll wander a bit more, get the lay of the land and all that. But if she needs me…"

"If she needs you, I'll call," Camille promised. She stood on her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "See you at dinner, okay?"

"All right."

Camille started walking away, but pivoted the moment she realized that Prophet was still standing next to Simon. "Aren't you coming?"

Prophet shook his head. "Naw. I've got other things to do. I'll catch you later, niu."

She looked troubled. Her eyes slid from Prophet's face to Simon's, then back again. "You haven't talk to Rive yet, have you?"

"I will. When the buzz dies down. The last thing I want to do is be in a room surrounded by a dozen fawning admirers, all right?"

"Prophet."

"Go on." He went to her and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I'll see you at dinner." Pressing his lips into her forehead, Prophet let her go and stepped back again.

"Fine. See you later. Bye Simon." Turning again, the medical gown--which, unlike so many, had fastenings in the back not only for modesty, but, seemingly, for style--flowing around her legs, Camille seemed to drift down the hall.

Simon cleared his throat. "Well. I suppose I'll see you later as well."

Prophet snorted. "Later? I'm coming with you."

Woa de tian ah. "I assure you, that's not necessary."

He smiled. "I know. But, I'm bored. So. Lay on, McDuff."

Simon sighed wearily and turned. Just what he needed; an obnoxious tagalong with a penchant for Shakespeare. It almost made him long for Jayne. At least with Jayne, Simon usually knew what he'd do; people like Prophet tended to be unpredictable and, right now, Simon wanted a little predictability.

Next to him, Prophet laughed. "Believe me, Doctor, around here there is no such thing as predictable."

"Wonderful."


	2. Chapter 2

"It's shiny here, ain't it?" Kaylee said brightly. She fell back onto the thick, cushy bed, throwing her arms out. "It's all comfy soft and pretty colors."

River smiled fondly at her girlfriend. "Yes," she agreed. "Shiny." There was a computer screen next to the door; on the outside of each room was a corresponding screen. No locks here, not anywhere. Just doors with computer screens and messages that showed up on the outside. Come in or Busy or Not Here.

River keyed the code for "Do Not Disturb." She hesitated for a moment, wondering if there was a way to display a message so people who were allowed in the room would know. But Camille should know she could come in. Anyway, her room was connected to River and Kaylee's. She'd come in through that door.

"Everyone here is real friendly. They all seem to like you."

River turned away from the door and joined Kaylee on the bed. "Very friendly. Curious. A little jealous."

"Jealous?"

She shrugged and rested her head on Kaylee's shoulder. "I have a brother who risked everything for me. They're either orphans or their families abandoned them. Like my parents."

Kaylee kissed River on the forehead and tightened her arms. "There musta been a good reason. Like they was being threatened or somethin'. No one would ever give up a grown up daughter, specially not one as brilliant as you."

"No, of course not," Camille said sardonically from the door that connected their rooms. "Just, you know, pretty much every single parent of every kid here."

River lifted her head. "I like Kaylee's story."

"I think Kaylee's story is full of go shi."

River threw a pillow at her. "Don't be mean." She kissed Kaylee. "Don't listen to her. She's stupid."

"I know better than to take what she says too seriously," Kaylee said, but there was a note of sadness in her voice.

River shot Camille a look.

"I'm sorry, Kaylee," Camille said with a sigh. She hugged her body, leaning against the door jamb. "I'm just... all out of it. I don't even have a reason to be such a si san ba. My parents didn't abandon me. They're both dead. And I can't imagine that everyone's folks gave their kids up easy. The Alliance had to have been leaning on them."

"Like my parents."

"Probably." Camille went back into her room; when she returned, she was carrying a change of clothes. "Garrison tried to get in contact with a few parents, to let them know that their kids were safe and they could see them. But that would mean they'd have to leave their homes and jobs. Their security. Most people aren't willing to do that." She stripped out of the hospital-like gown she was wearing and pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt.

"Simon were willing to give it all up," Kaylee said. She stroked River's hair. "You're so lucky to have him for a brother."

River knew that Kaylee was trying to make her feel good, but a heavy sadness filled her at the words. "Yeah," she said softly. "Lucky. He gave up everything for me. His career. His money. Friends. Life. All for me." Tears gathered in her eyes. "All he ever wanted was me. A sister."

Camille came to the bed and sat next to her. "Really?"

She nodded, pulling Kaylee's arms around her. "He was smarter than the other kids. Didn't know how to make them like him. Lonely. Wanted something his to love. Wanted me. Told me once that the happiest day in his life was when I was born. He loved taking care of me and dressing me up. Reading to me. Playing with me. Teaching me. And I loved him more than anything. Then they took me. Broke me." Tears were falling now and she was trembling uncontrollably. "And he keeps trying. Keeps giving things up because I need. Coulda had Mal. Wanted Mal, but I was too broke, even with Kaylee and now he has no one and he's alone and beings stalked and... And I hate being broken. Hate that I'm still here when he's so sad and I know that..." She stopped talking and turned into Kaylee, burying her face in Kaylee's neck.

Kaylee stroked her hair gently. "It's okay, bao bei. It's okay. You ain't broke, honey. And we're here to get you fixed."

"Can't be fixed. Won't ever be the same. He won't like me when I'm not the same."

"Sure he will," Camille said. She put her arms around River, snuggling with her and Kaylee. "Simon wanted you so bad that he gave up everything. And he found his sister."

"Broken. Not the same."

"Doesn't matter to him. He found you. You would have been different no matter what, even if you were just older. It's what happened." Camille kissed River on the cheek. "And you're not that broken. You shoulda seen me when Garrison got me out. I never made sense. I couldn't stop throwing things. And I'd never had a girlfriend or boyfriend before. I was only thirteen when I was taken, and there weren't many kids around where I lived. Mom home schooled me because I was so advanced. When she died, the ranch hands took care of me, and they were all older and gentlemen and stuff. Then I went to the Alliance, got tortured for a few years. When Garrison got me out and took the androgen blocker out..."

River shuddered, tears falling faster.

Camille wiped the tears away. "It's going to be okay, River. You're not going to turn into a sex-crazed fiend, I swear. You'll just want to have sex. A lot."

"What's the difference?"

"Sex is good, River," Kaylee said. "Really. You've seen how much I like it. Now you'll like it, too."

River wiped her eyes. "What if... what if I want to have sex with someone else? What if you're too tired and I can't... stop?"

Kaylee's smile faltered. "Well. I'll deal. I know it won't be nothing personal. Maybe I won't be happy or nothing, but, I mean, I can't hold it against you. It ain't your fault. I'll just have one more thing to hate the Alliance for."

"Will you still want me?"

"Of course. You're my girlfriend, River. I love you."

River felt herself crumble, and she leaned into Kaylee. "I love you. I want to be whole for you. I want to want to be touched. But I'm afraid if I want to be touched by someone else, you won't want to touch me any more."

Kaylee kissed her head. "River, I ain't the captain. And I'm sorry he's being such a zhu tou jerk, Camille. I know he wants you. I seen the way he looks at you. It's the same way he used to look at Inara. Sometimes, he still does. Only, with you, he ain't always so angry, like he's made at himself for wantin' you. At least, I mean. He weren't, till he decided that you only wanted him because of this androgen blocker thing. But, River, I know you. I know you're mine and I know you're in for a rough time. I ain't gonna judge. I mean, I weren't exactly all pure and untouched before you."

"But you're not still with people."

"River, please, don't worry about this," Camille said. "Everyone has a different experience. You're unlike any other kid ever brought here. None of us had been living on the outside and rebuilding our lives. We came here directly from the Academy. We didn't get to interact with normal people. We didn't get wonderful girlfriends. I was so freaked out by other people touching me that it took forever for me to get comfortable with it."

River blinked, lifting her head from Kaylee's shoulder. "What do you mean?" Camille seemed so confident and sexual, it was hard to imagine her being scared of it.

Her fair skin colored. Camille pulled slightly away from River, looking down at her hands so her hair hung around her face. "Like I said, I'd never had a boyfriend before. And all the sudden, my body was working in overdrive to start producing this hormone it shoulda been producing for years. I was hot and horny and my heart was pounding. I was confused. But, worse, without the blocker, my psychic powers went out of control. Sometimes, it seemed as if everyone within the surrounding system was in my brain and, other times, I was so empty it hurt. That's really why we need sex, you see. It's not about the body. It's about the mind. The Alliance wanted us powerful, but in their control. Their choices. So they blocked the androgen so we didn't have a choice in anything, not how we focus our minds, not how open or closed our minds on, not our own bodies. Nothing. Without it, we can control it. After the first rush, as your body learns to regulate the hormones, you don't always need sex. It's just nice."

"So you were scared?" River prompted.

Camille's lips curved into a slight smile. "Yeah. I tried to hold out as long as I could, but finally I had such a bad headache, I just... I had to do something about the voices. So I went to Ian, one of the Companions. He's a Companion, you know? Nice, gentle, elegant. And every time he got close to kiss me, I tensed up so bad. My stomach hurt, I almost threw up. I just couldn't. He decided that maybe I'd be better with a woman, so he got Deanna. But it wasn't really any better. The only difference was she could hold me and calm me down. But I was so hot and aching and jus miserable. They got a couple kids, but I freaked out there, too. I thought I was going to die. I thought they'd have to put me to sleep or something. I just... everything was so wrong. Finally Garrison came." She licked her lips. "I trusted him. He was the first face I'd seen that wasn't one of the Alliance. He'd told me everything was going to be okay, and I believed him."

"So you two had sex," Kaylee said, sounding a little swoony, like she was listening to a fairy tale.

"Not right away. He took me to his room and we ate. Played some games, like checkers and stuff." Camille blushed deeply, a crooked smile on her face. "He played with my hair. It was long back then, longer, at any rate. He brushed it and braided it and just... he made me feel so safe. So cherished and loved and adored." Tears glistened in her eyes. "Even though we weren't having sex at first, my mind found his and focused. And by the time I was relaxed enough, I wanted him so bad. He just laid me down and kissed me all over. Slowly took my clothes off and it weren't sex. He made love to me." The tears fell and her chin trembled. "Why doesn't he love me anymore?"

"Oh, sweetie." Kaylee pulled Camille back to her and River.

River put her arms around Camille and kissed her cheek. "He does. You're his chameleon. But he isn't right for you."

"No one is, then." Camille pressed her face against River's hair. "Mal doesn't want me. He hates me. Garrison wants me to grow up and find someone else. And I'm stuck." She sniffed. "You're lucky, River. You came here with family. You came with a girlfriend. It won't be as scary for you and Kaylee isn't going anywhere." She lifted her head and tried for a smile. "If someone as sexual as Kaylee stayed with you so long without sex, you gotta know it's you she loves. And that she's not going anywhere." She kissed River's cheek. "You're very lovable, River. And I know things are going to be fine."

River stroked Camille's hair, tucking a few strands behind her ear. "I love you, too. Camille Kathleen, you're very loveable. And Daddy's going to figure that out. He's not going to let you go like he had to let Inara."

"Captain can be stubborn, no question," Kaylee put in. "But he's not a stupid man. Just, I dunno. Stubborn."

"No locks here." River smiled at Camille. "Everything can be opened."

Camille snorted and wiped at her eyes. "No locks," she repeated. "Yet, somehow, in a base with no locks, that man barred his door real good so I can't get in."

"You're already in," River assured her. "If he barred his door, that means he can't let you out."

_si san ba bitch_


	3. Chapter 3

Mal hated this place. He hated the looks he got from the students or patients or whatever the hell they were when he walked through the halls. Hated the doctors and Companions and teachers who said hello to him like they knew or cared who the hell he was. Hated how clean and neat it was, how comfortable and spacious the room he'd been given was, and how much like the Core it all felt. He hated that his door didn't lock, and that his room was next to Camille's and no one on his gorram crew would trade with him.

And he hated Garrison Pike. Hated the man's smug look and cool blue eyes. Hated that neatly trimmed goatee and his perfect clothes and Core-bred accent. Mal hated that Garrison had the money and intelligence to create this place, and that he'd made money in the war instead of lost everything. Hate his obvious education and brilliance and the way he could take care of people. Deserved to take care of...

Viciously, Mal backed away from that thought. Nothing mattered anyway. Only reason he was here was to make sure River got the help she needed without being taken advantage of. She were part of his crew and he didn't let anyone take advantage of his crew.

As for the rest of his crew, they didn't seem to be suspicious like they should be. Oh, Zoe always maintained a state of vigilance, but he could tell that she was viewing their stay as more a vacation than a protection gig. She and Wash had been tucked into their room practically since they got here, like they was happy to be away from Serenity for awhile. Never mind everyone in the place not only knew what they were doing, but were probably listening in and playing along. Jayne had found himself some playmate kids who wanted to spar with him, saying they needed to practice on someone who wouldn't fight fair. When he heard that he could do whatever he wanted to take 'em down, he'd volunteered enthusiastically. Book'd found one of the libraries and a few kids to pray with while Inara was chatting with the Companions. River and Kaylee were playing court to those that wanted to meet River, and Camille...

Weren't part of his crew.

Damn her. Damn her and her eyes and her skin and the way she smelled so... good under the sweat and grime and the blood that she washed off every time she got hurt. All of it had combined together and Mal could still smell Camille lingering in the air of his ship even though she was gone. She wouldn't be back, neither. She'd lied and she'd used him and it wasn't going to happen.

She didn't want him, anyway. And he certainly didn't want him. And yet...

Leaning against the edge of the flight controls, Mal closed his eyes, replaying what had happened when they'd landed in his mind. After introducing himself to Mal, Garrison had taken Camille into his arms, giving her the longest hug in the history of the 'verse. Mal had wanted to kill him, to go and pull her away, and he could feel the looks people were shooting at him as he tried to close himself off and not care. And then, after rocking her back and forth a bit, Garrison pulled away and aimed a kiss at her mouth. Mal had forced himself to watch, expressionless, watch as another man kissed his... kised Camille. And then, Camille...

Camille had turned away. She'd turned away and kissed Garrison on the cheek before untangling herself from his arms.

Everyone gathered around had all broke into buzzing whispers, but Garrison had acted like nothing had happened. But it had. It had happened, and it was enough to make Mal wonder, even though he didn't want to. While on of the boys had pulled Camille aside, Garrison had explained he had rooms for them all and they were all welcome and blah, blah, blah. Then, Camille had been led away to get her arm fixed, and the rest of them started the process of moving in.

"You're welcome anywhere in the complex," Garrison had said before he'd left. "Nothing is closed to you and you may do as you wish. The only thing I ask is that, unless absolutely necessary, you join us for breakfast and dinner." He'd smiled like he were embarrassed or something. "It's a house rule that everyone, guest, worker, and student alike, are required to follow."

"And if I decide to stay on my ship?" Mal had asked.

"Then take it back into orbit so as not to upset the routine," Garrison replied blandly.

"We'll be at the meals," Zoe had broken in. "It's no problem."

Mal hate it here. He wanted his sky back. He wanted things to be uncomplicated--well. Sort uncomplicated, again.

"No, really, it's all right," he heard Simon saying down in the cargo hold. "I'm only getting a few things, I don't need any help Go back to the school."

"Naw," an unfamiliar voice said. "I've got nothing to do right now. Besides, I wanted to see the ship anyway."

Mal dropped the rag he'd been using to clean and left the cockpit. He got to the main hold in time to see Simon disappear into the common area. A stranger, a lanky, dark-haired boy dressed in black, was following him. He stopped just at the top of the stairs and turned. Sharp blue eyes found Mal's immediately.

The eyes seemed to cut right through Mal. The boy was stock still, head titled like he was listening for something. Mal felt utterly exposed, dissected and naked. He could even feel it, feel the boy rummaging through his mind and there was nothing he could do.

He swallowed against a sudden bought of nausea and put a hand to his head. "Hey," he said, throat dry so it came out as a whisper. Mal swallowed and inhaled, prepared to shout at the boy, when the kid smirked and jogged into the common area after Simon.

What the hell did Simon think he was doing, bringing one of them on board? Cursing under his breath, Mal stormed down. This was his ship. His refuge. These damn psychics had an entire moon to play on; they didn't need his ship too.

Or his crew. Okay, yeah, Simon was probably talking to everyone here to get information on how to help River, but this child wasn't a doctor. He was a patient and had no business here.

He was going to have to institute a rule. No one as allowed to sleep with anyone here--except for Kaylee and maybe River. Mal didn't trust this whole androgen blocker thing. To him, it sounded more like an excuse for promiscuity and, very likely, for a dirty old man to take advantage of some very attractive adolescents. It was one thing to sleep with normal adults that hadn't been lab rats for the Alliance, but it was another to sleep with them who weren't exactly in their right mind. At least River and Kaylee knew each other and Mal trusted both of them. He didn't trust anyone on this moon.

"So, this is where the magic happens, huh?" an unfamiliar voice said inside Simon's room.

"If by magic you mean River occasionally throwing-up," Simon responded, sounding weary, "then, yes. It is."

Mal crossed the common area to Simon's room and looked at the scene inside. Simon was going through his trunk, pulling out what Mal knew to be his favorite shirts and slacks, as well as underwear and other sundries. He also pulled out the occasional book, data pad, and trinket that looked to belong to River.

The boy was lounging on Simon's bed, looking comfortable. He was stretched out, facing Simon, elegant, pale hand slowly caressing the tautly pulled comforter on Simon's bed.

"Ah, come on," the boy wheedled. "You really mean to say that with a crew this pretty, you're not getting some action?"

"I mean to say." He didn't sound all that happy or interested in what the boy was asking. As usual, Simon was intent in the task at hand which, to Mal's displeasure, was apparently getting clothes and books and stuffing them into a bag to take over to the base.

The boy sort of sighed, sat up, and picked up Simon's pillow. "So you're not sleeping with anyone, but you must ease your tension somehow." He pressed the pillow to his face and inhaled deeply, eyes sliding to Mal's. "So, who's your fantasy material? That muscular merc? The Companion? The cute mechanic because, wow, kinky. Or," the boy winked at Mal, "is it that _hau li ban pin rou_ of a captain you have running this ship?"

Simon sighed. "That is a rather personal questiong, don't you think?"

"Probably." He looked like he was talking to Mal, but his voice was pitched at Simon. "Why aren't you with anyone? You're good looking. Brilliant. Clean. You can't tell me that no one here wants you."

Mal was about to say something to stop this farce when Simon said, "It's never worked out. The first person I thought I wanted ended up being more like a sister to me. Then, she started sleeping with my sister, so that ended that. At least, I thought she was sleeping with my sister since no one deigned to tell me that a formerly very sexual young woman was perfectly happy to be in a relationship with an eighteen year-old girl who is apparently incapable of having any sexual feeling because those _he chu sheng za jiao de zang_ _huo_ wanted not only her brain but her entire life. And, meanwhile, despite having no compelling reason, the captain rebuffed my every advance, only to fall in l.."

"I'd stop talking right now if I were you," Mal cut in.

Simon stiffened and turned. His face was sheet white and his hands gripped the bag he was holding tightly. "Captain. I didn't know you were here." He glanced at the boy, who merely shrugged, smiled, and smelled the pillow again.

"It's my ship. There's work to be done," Mal said. "What are you doing bringing one of them here?"

"He followed me." He sounded offended. "I didn't bring him."

"And you didn't know he was following? You couldn't tell him to run back home, that he weren't wanted here?"

"Believe me," Simon replied, voice exquisitely dry. "I've been trying to get rid of him for some time. It hasn't worked."

"It ain't all that hard, Doctor. Just tell him to leave you alone." Mal looked at the boy. "You ain't welcome here."

The boy smiled prettily. "Don't worry. I won't be here long."

"No, you ain't stayin' at all. Go. Go play with your friends or yourself or whatever. We're trying to work here."

"You're dusting your cockpit," the boy said, enunciating every syllable sharply, "and Doctor Tam is packing. I'm interrupting nothing."

"Look, boy," Mal started, but Simon interrupted him with a quiet, "Mal."

Mal looked at him, ready to continue the fight, but the doctor gave the briefest shake of his head, like to say it weren't worth it. Mal was about to light into him when Simon began speaking again.

"I'm sorry, Captain," Simon said, sounding truly contrite. "I didn't realize it would be a problem. I just wanted some changes of clothes and a few things to read. I didn't even realize anyone was here."

"Just because a ship ain't flying, don't mean she's grounded. This is still a working ship..."

"Barely," the boy stuck in.

"Prophet, _please_."

"What?" Prophet grinned at Simon. "You think he doesn't know that the only thing holding this boat together is twine and prayer? It's not an insult. I think it's rather admirable that he has so much faith in something. Even a bucket of bolts."

Mal stepped inside, fists clenched. "You want to keep breathing, boy?"

Prophet stood in one fluid motion. "Yes, I do, thank you." He dropped the pillow and stepped closer to Mal. "I'm sure it's a good ship. Having never flown in it myself, I only know what I see." His head tilted to the left, eyes narrowing. "However, the fact is, if it weren't for your genius mechanic who can work miracles with twine and spit and prayer and a first mate willing to kill and die for you, and a crew you've managed to weld into a family, you wouldn't be able to fly the black. You'd just be stuck back on..." He broke off, frowning. "That doesn't make any sense. The ship is named Serenity. How could you be stuck here if... Ah. As in the valley. I get it." He turned to Simon. "Lovely name. Camille's dad was killed there, incidentally. He wasn't the only one."

The thought wasn't fully articulated in his mind ,which was probably how he got the upper hand on Mal. All he knew was, one moment, he was just standing there and, the next, he had Prophet by the shoulder, whirling him around.

It felt good to hit someone, even if the face he was pounding wasn't the one he wanted.

"Mal!" Simon shouted. He stepped in front of Prophet, blocking Mal. "We are guests here."

"He's the mind reader. Why didn't he see that coming?" Mal asked, caressing his broken knuckles.

Prophet turned in Simon's arms and rolled his eyes at Mal. There was a dark purple bruise on his once flawless cheek. "You have to have a thought in order for a reader to read your mind." He didn't seem angry. In fact, he seemed almost happy, like he'd gotten what he wanted. In fact, he stepped back from Simon and touched the bruise. "How does it look, Doctor?"

Simon took Prophet's chin in his hand and tilted his head, examining the bruise. Prophet's eyes fluttered shut, highlighting his insanely long lashes. The boy was beautiful, almost ethereally so. He was strangely feminine and it bothered Mal, not because he had anything against it, but because, well. Everything about this place bothered him.

"You're fine," Simon said, releasing Prophet and stepping back. "But you should get ice on it. Let's head back to the school."

"All right."

Simon turned. "Will you come with us, Captain?"

"No, I'll be along in a bit I wanted to finish up here. I do have work to do, a ship to keep in order and all. Plus, I've a necklace to sell and want to start lookin' at buyers."

Prophet smirked. "You're not going to sell that necklace. It saved Camille's life."

Mal glared. "Only gratefulness I feel for the necklace is that it saved the lives of my crew," he said shortly. "If that thing had hit Camille in the spine, we'd all be dead. Ain't her life I care about."

"I see why you like him so much," Prophet said to Simon. He moved closer and put his hands on Simon's shoulders. "He's wonderfully self-deluded, isn't he?"

Simon swallowed hard as Prophet leaned in, his lips close to Simon's ear. "It's really not my place to say," Simon said. "Perhaps we should…"

"First," Prophet interrupted, "he ignores his feelings for you. He pretends it's for your own good, that he's too damaged and bitter to feel, even though he feels very deeply. The problem is, he has some idealized idea of what love and life should be. He's afraid to love, to trust, so he makes those he does care for go through hell since he's always in hell. Now he's doing it to Camille, and…"

Simon turned suddenly and took hold of Prophet by wrists. "Stop. This isn't funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny, Doctor." Prophet's eyes widened slightly, his cheeks flushing. "I'm just spreading the truth."

"As often happens, the truth isn't wanted. That's why Prophet's so often end up dead."

Prophet just smirked.

Simon sighed. Dropping one of the boy's wrists, Simon turned. "I'm sorry, Captain."

"Get him off my ship," Mal said, voice low and dangerous. "Else I might do something we all might regret. I don't want to see him here again."

"River needs," Simon started, but swallowed the rest of whatever he'd been planning on saying. "I'll send Kaylee. Come on." Face red, obviously humiliated, Simon dragged Prophet out of the room.

Mal watched them go, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Gorram place. Gorram kids. And damn the tian sha de emo who'd ruined all their lives.

_he chu sheng za jiao de zang_ _huo: filthy fornicators of livestock_

_hau li ban pin rou: as close as I can get to gorgeous slap of meat_

_tian sha de emo: Goddamn monsters_


	4. Chapter 4

Camille stepped into the control room cautiously, not liking that even at home she felt was timid and unsure. There wasn't anyone she could blame, outside of the Alliance. And, maybe Mal. If he hadn't gotten so mad, if he'd just let her explain, maybe she wouldn't keep waiting for the next rejection from the next person. She already spent her life waiting for something bad to happen anyway, just, normally, she was able to pretend she didn't care.

Garrison was standing in front of a vid screen, drinking tea and watching a bunch of kids pound on Jayne in the gym. As yet, he was unaware of her presence, and Camille was glad that he wasn't a psychic. Like Mal, Garrison was a sensitive, but unless she made her presence known, she could probably stand and watch him for some time before he noticed her. In the past, when they'd been together, she'd often done that, just hung back watching and wondering how she'd gotten so lucky as to earn his love.

She crossed the room to him and took her place at his side.

He continued to watch the monitors. "Hello, Camille."

"Hi."

"How are you feeling?" He turned away from the screen to look at her.

Now the focus of his undivided attention, Camille felt her cheeks heat. She had to drop her eyes and she felt stupid and weak, but this man did things to her. "Better. A lot better." She licked her lips and forced herself to look back up. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Busy. Worried." He sipped the tea and looked over at her. "I feel much better now that you are back and safe."

She warmed at that happily. "And, um. The others?"

"Everyone checked in one time and are on their way. We should have a full house within the next few days. Save, of course, for those that fell." He frowned and rubbed his chin meditatively. "I was thinking we should have a service for Trinity and Asher," he said, naming the two kids who hadn't made it. "Do you think either one of them would want a shepherd to read?"

"Asher probably would have." She took his tea and finished it off. "Trinity wouldn't have cared either way. She wasn't... she wasn't like Prophet and me in that way. Angry at it all. I mean, she was, but I think she still believed in God."

"Do you mind if I ask Shepherd Book, then?"

Camille shrugged. "It'd be fitting. He was as much a tool of the Alliance as any of us."

"Very well, I'll ask." He reached out and fingered the ends of her hair. "I'm worried about Prophet."

"Me too. He's so hurt by losing Trinity. He doesn't want to visit River. And he feels a little… self-destructive."

Garrison nodded. "I've had him with the psychologist since Trinity died, but Prophet is just giving her the runaround. You know what he's like when he doesn't want to talk; nothing in the 'verse can make that boy make sense. At least now he's communicating with others. He hasn't spoken to anyone but Dr. Aranki or me since Trinity. I think he was waiting for you."

"Yeah." She looked at him. "He's with Simon now. That worries me."

"Why?"

"He won't visit River, but he's latched onto the man who gave up everything to get her out. Everyone is kind of thinking of Simon like this hero. They love him because he was willing to do that and resent him because none of their family did."

Garrison raised an eyebrow. "How do you feel?"

"I like him. He and I bonded pretty quickly. I reminded him of River and he… he's Simon. But others are going through issues right now."

"How bad do you think these issues will be?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "Not too. I don't think, anyway. I think it's something that we need to talk about as a group. Maybe we can sit down with Simon and River, too." Camille looked at him from the corner of her eyes. "Of course, it'd help most of them to know what was going on with their parents. I find it really hard to believe that so many parents just didn't give a damn about what happened to their children. Even if they didn't find out about the experiments, they must know by now the kids are missing from school."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. "I know. I know it would help, but the fact is, I don't know why. Not in each case. I know there was a lot of coercion and threats that happened and it was safer for most people to give up on their children. Some are dead. A few were dead before, and some really simply don't care."

"All of us kina feel worthless sometimes," she said.

"And what has you feeling so worthless right now, xin ai?" Garrison asked, turning to face her.

Camille pressed her palms into her eyes, fighting back tears. "It's hard to explain. I don't want to explain. I was just so dead after almost being caught, I didn't feel real. I still don't quite feel real."

Garrison's arms came around her, pulling her into his chest. He stroked her hair, sending off waves of comfort and love that should have made her feel more at home than it did. "This will pass, Camille. I promise. Things will get back to normal for you. That's one benefit of being home."

"Yeah." She wasn't sure if she believed it.

"I know things will be hard once we start working on River," he said, misinterpreting or overlooking the real reason for her doubt. "And I know that you'll never quite get over the loss of Trinity. But the world isn't ending."

Camille snorted and raised her head. "Really? Then why does it feel as if you're preparing for a scatter?"

"Well." He winced. "We might have to. There's every possibility that the Alliance is honing in on our location."

"You love this world."

Garrison nodded. "I do. But I love you all more, and your safety is more important." He traced her cheek with his thumb. "If we do scatter, I want you and Prophet to stay together."

"All right."

"And I'd like you to go on Serenity, with River."

Camille made a face. "We might not be welcome."

"Why not?"

Uncomfortable, Camille untangled herself from his arms and stepped away. Wrapping her own arms around her tightly, she said, "I'm not Mal's favorite person. He didn't appreciate being lied to, you know."

"Why didn't you tell him who you were after you knew about River?"

Camille shrugged. "I didn't want him to look at me any different. They all treat River like a fragile little girl. I hate that…" She stopped talking.

Garrison sighed and put his hands on her shoulders. Squeezing gently, he said, "You are one of the strongest young women I know, Camille. The Alliance didn't break you. They changed you, diverted you, perhaps, but you aren't broken. You can never be broken."

"I was an experiment. They meant me only to live to kill and fight and die."

"And you managed to break out of that mould."

"Because of you. Because of this." She touched the monitor. "It doesn't have anything to do with me."

"It does. Without your strength of will, you wouldn't have survived," Garrison said firmly. "Too many of you have died at the hands of or because of the Alliance experiments. Those that have survived have souls of steel. You're made of something different. Something to be proud of."

"Well it scares me," she replied. "I want to be normal."

"You never were normal, bao bei. None of you were. You were always destined for a greater life than that of the average person." He ran his fingers lightly over her face in the gentlest of caresses. "You just need to give up your resentment of what happened so you can live that great life, wherever it takes you."

Camille rolled her eyes and turned away from him. As she left the control room, she said, "The only thing you were better at than sex is meaningless platitudes, Garrison."

"And the only thing you are better at is hiding behind your fear," he said mildly.

She thought about sticking out her tongue at him or punching or kicking. Instead, she lifted her chin and stormed out of the room.

Damn him. Damn him for always knowing what words cut right through her. Because he was right and she knew it. She was scared. She'd always been scared of changing and life and everything. She'd grown up listening to her parents talk about her great future and how she had so many possibilities and so much potential to fulfill and it had been frightening. What if she failed? What if she never did anything great? What if they were wrong about her?

Garrison had let her go so she could find love with someone right for her. On the one hand, she was resentful because she hated that he thought she needed him to think for her. She was an adult and she knew what she wanted. She wanted him.

On the other hand… What if she never found anyone else? Or, worse, what if she did?

And, worse than that, what if she already had?


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner proved to be an uncomfortable affair. Camille was later than she meant to be and what with everyone being recalled to the base, the dining room was crowded. The only place left to sit by the time she got there was the main table, where Garrison and the crew of Serenity was sitting. If it had just been River and Kaylee, she'd have been fine. But it was the entire crew and, of course, the only place left to sit was next to Garrison with Mal directly across from her.

"I saved you a seat," Prophet, who was next to a weary-looking Simon, chirped when she arrived.

"You're too kind," Camille answered. She frowned at him. "Where did you get that bruise?"

Prophet shrugged, eyes sliding to Mal. "I can't remember."

Camille tried very, very hard not to look at Mal, but it was impossible. He was already looking at her. Their eyes met and held for a moment that seemed to freeze in time.

Mal looked away first.

"Play nice," Camille told him. "Please."

Prophet leaned into her. "What's going on with him, anyway?"

She shook her head and picked up her fork. "Not here." The meal, as usual, was wonderfully prepared, all natural, all grown right here, and never, ever touched by Blue Sun or the Alliance. After weeks of nothing but packaged protein and processed crap made in a laboratory by the most evil corporation in the verse, this was pure heaven.

It was very, very hard not to sigh orgasmically on her first bite. The muscles in her shoulders unknotted, her breathing eased, and her powers kicked in fully.

Mal's eyes snapped back to her. She tried very hard not to look at him as a torrent of angrily lustful thoughts washed over her.

Prophet snickered.

She kicked him under the table.

Three people down, River sighed, sounding just as happy, relaxed, and orgasmic at the fresh food as Camille had.

Next to Prophet, Simon whimpered.

And, thus, the meal proceeded. Only, with small talk, which made everything worse, as small talk inevitably did. Not just small talk, but small talk punctuated by Prophet's comments, which made the everything worse even worse than it would have been.

They talked about the weather: "It's so beautiful here," Inara said admiringly. "The weather is perfect. It reminds me of home." To which Prophet replied, "Yeah, well, twenty or thirty horny kids in paradise is a lot like a house full of whores in paradise."

They talked about the landscape: "Now this lake," Wash asked, "is it visible to anyone else? I mean," and he shot a glance at his wife, "how secluded is it?" "Secluded enough that Garrison never realizes we watch him jack off in it." Prophet's response made Wash's nose crinkle very cutely.

They discussed the classes: "I ain't never been a teacher before," a very bruised Jayne said, "but if you need me to teach these kids how to fight, I'm in." "And won't we enjoy that," Prophet said dryly in perhaps his worst quip of the night.

And they touched on religion--"I'd be very happy to talk with anyone about matters of spirituality," Shepherd Book said. Prophet's eyes rolled as he said, "Gotta wash the blood off of his soul somehow."

The chatting was very pleasant, very light, and no one said anything of consequence.

No one killed Prophet either. Barely.

Mal had said nothing at all. As soon as he was done eating, he grunted his good-bye to Garrison, and left the dining room.

Camille had tried not to care, but she did. And she projected it so loudly that every kid in the room stopped talking to look at her.

"So, um," she said, trying to ignore everyone's eyes, "Simon. How do you, uh, like it here?"

He looked at her with a touch of sympathy. "It really is beautiful. And the philosophy behind the care is something... something that I think should be looked into everywhere. If it were possible, of course."

"What do you mean?" Zoe asked.

Simon turned to her. "Everything is very open. They tell the pa... kids everything they're going to do, all the results, how everything works. The treatment rooms are beautiful. Comfortable. You should see one."

"Thank you, Doctor, but I ain't planning on needing one." Zoe replied.

Garrison picked up his water glass and swirled the water around. "Actually, the doctors might end up asking any or all of you to help with River." He drank and then put the glass down.

"What are would we be expected to do?' said Wash, sounding alarmed. "We're not exactly doctors. Except for, you know. The doctor. I mean... I just want to swim."

"Don't worry. You won't be asked anything beyond your capabilities," Garrison said soothingly. "Often, even though we do everything we can to make the kids comfortable, they become agitated, sometimes violent when we begin treating them. One reason we keep the treatment rooms open and comfortable is to help keep the patients grounded and comfortable. If their friends are around, then they feel safer." He looked over at River, who had her head down, face hidden by her hair. "All you need to do, River, at any time is tell us that you need something or someone. Nothing that's going to happen in the next few weeks needs to be frightening."

"Thank you." River's voice was almost silent, and she was twisting her fingers in her lap.

"River?" Simon said cautiously.

She lifted her head and gave her brother a wavering smile. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. What's wrong?" He took her hand and squeezed.

"Nothing. I'm... It's just. I mean, they made promises, too."

"Of course they did," Garrison said. "They wanted you to believe you were agreeing to a new program. They had to manipulate you so, later, if you started to have doubts, they could hold it against you."

"And, meanwhile," Prophet said, mutilating what was left of his dessert, "they never bothered to admit that we never had any choice in the matter. We were there for the sole purpose of having our brains cut open."

Camille took his fork away and tried to take his hand. Prophet, though, shook her off and shoved his chair back from the table. Without saying another word, he flounced away, his jacket fluttering behind him like a cape, all drama and pain, like a black cloud.

"I better go after him," Camille said, pushing her own chair back.

"Do you want me to?" Simon asked, sounding rather as if he hoped she said no, but had better offer anyway.

"Do you want to have sex with him?"

"No," he said adamantly and very, _very_ quickly.

"Then, no. Because if you go after him, he's going to jump you and use all his powers of persuasion to get you into. It's better if you just stay." She turned to go, but Simon grabbed her wrist.

"What about you? If you..." He broke off abruptly, glancing around the table.

Everyone except River and Garrison immediately looked down at their food. Garrison looked extremely curious, watching Camille narrowly.

Simon stood and took Camille outside the dining hall. When they were alone, he said softly, "Camille, I know Prophet is your friend. I know that you've slept with him before and that you love him and... But if you sleep with him now, then you'll lose any chance you have in reconciling with Mal."

Camille smiled sadly and put her hand to Simon's cheek. "I know. I know. And thank you for... thinking that, maybe, I still do have a chance with Mal."

"I think he loves you."

She blushed. "Well. Anyway, I'm not going to have sex with Prophet. He's not in the mood for me. He wants to be fucked, and fucked in a way that I can't, even with a toy."

Simon's face was dark red. He let go of her wrist and stepped away. "Oh. Oh, well, I, uh. I see."

"Sorry. God, I'm sorry I said that. Like that. I'm just..."

"It's all right." He hesitated, then moved closer to her again and put his arms around her. "I understand this is hard for you." Simon stroked her hair. "Mal will calm down. Eventually. Until then, try not to worry about him."

"It's hard not to. Everyone here is used to me and Garrison either being together or... having problems apart. There's this expectation on how I'm supposed to act, and I'm not doing that. Not like normal." She wiped her eyes on his shirt, then rested her cheek on his chest. "They want to know why. I don't know what to say."

"Can't you tell them you're not in love with him anymore?"

She sniffed. "I don't even know how to tell Garrison."

"Mei mei, he broke it off with you. He shouldn't need to be told. Didn't he leave you so you could move on with your own life?"

"Yeah. But he's still in love with me. I can feel it. When he finds out that I... I have feelings for Mal, Garrison is going to be hurt." A tear slid out of her eye.

Simon wiped it away with his thumb. "That's life. That's love. You think I'm not a little hurt by Mal's feelings for you?"

She felt like she'd been punched. "Oh, God." Camille pushed him away. "Simon, I'm so..."

"No. No, Camille, that's not what I..." He took her by the shoulders. "Mal and I weren't going to work. He made the right choice to reject men, and I made the right choice to accept it. Maybe I'll feel some shades of longing when I think of the inevitable moment when he comes to his senses and you stop being scared of what you want, but my feelings shouldn't stop you from what you want. Neither should Garrison's."

"You think I'm scared?"

"I know you are."

Camille gaped at him for a moment, trying to think of something to say. When her mind remained blank, she turned and stalked away.

"You have three modes, Camille," Simon called after her. "Fight, seduce, or run. You're like Jayne, only with a brain and psychic powers."

"Wo xi wang ni man man si, dan kuai dian xia di yu," she shouted back.

"I just spent the afternoon with Prophet. I'm already in hell."

She rolled her eyes and continued onto her room at a quicker pace. Prophet was already there, stretched across her bed. His arm was flung over his eyes, bare toes digging into the comforter, his body one tense line of anguish.

"Hey, bao bei," Camille said softly. She climbed on top of him, interlacing her fingers with his and pulling his arm off his face. "What's wrong?"

"Everything." His eyes were really bright. "I remember her. I hate her."

"No you don't."

"I hate her brother. I hate that she had someone who loved her so much that he gave up everything. It's not fair. I hate him."

"You know, you have even less reason to hate him than I do." She twisted his hair in her fingers. "Your father is the one who got you out."

Prophet frowned. "He did?"

"Yeah." She traced her fingers lightly over his forehead. "You gave him a lot of problems. He couldn't handle you and finally found Garrison. Now, I guess, your dad works for Garrison."

"Notice how often he comes to see me."

"Well. You're a jerk. And bitter. You probably scare him." She kissed him. "And he probably feels like he failed you." She kissed him again. "Why did you let Mal hit you?"

Prophet smirked, but his heart obviously wasn't in it. "Like I told him, you can't read a mind that has no thoughts. He took me by surprise."

"That's go shi and you know it. Did you tell that to Mal?"

"Maybe."

"Are you setting him up?"

"He hurt you. No one hurts my bian se long. Why do you think I'm such a thorn in Garrison's side?"

She shook her head and kissed him once more. "Don't, okay? I'm a big girl and can take care of myself."

Prophet put his arms around her and squeezed. "I don't want you to ever leave me again," he said. He rolled over, pinning her to the bed beneath him. "I don't care how strong or capable you are, you can't leave."

"Prophet..."

"I miss Trinity," he said. And then the dam broke and Prophet was sobbing into her shoulder.

His pain washed over her, breaking her heart. Holding him tightly, Camille cried with him. She stroked his back and wiped his tears, not saying anything. There wasn't anything to say and he needed to cry. They both did.

Tears inevitably led to exhaustion. Camille hadn't even realized she and Prophet had fallen asleep until the bed shifted and she was startled awake.

"River?" she croaked, throat dry and cracked.

"Can't sleep," River said, crawling over Prophet and sliding into bed behind Camille. "Mind's too busy. Too loud, too scared. Nothing makes sense. It's illogical."

Her arm was pinned under Prophet's body; she tried to work it free gently but, in the end, had to shove Prophet.

He groaned and rolled over.

Camille turned to River. "It's not illogical."

"It _is_," River insisted. "They mean well. All of them, I can tell. No hidden motives, no hidden meanings. Only want to make me better, but they're nervous and I'm nervous and Kaylee is frightened. They're going to cut me open, again. Just like them, and I'm scared."

"It's scary, baby." Camille touched River's cheek gently. "It is scary. But I'm going to be there with you. So is Kaylee and Simon and anyone else you want. You're not going through this alone. You'll never be alone again."

"It's like one big party in your head from now on," Prophet said sleepily. He moved so he was draped across Camille's back and started snoring softly once more.

River actually smiled waveringly. "He's got so much pain and so much love." She reached across Camille and touched Prophet's temple. "I remember him. We had classes together. Before. He used to watch me dance." Her smile faded and tears filled her eyes. "I remember. They told me I could do great things. I could do whatever I wanted. I could be... And I asked if I could still dance. But they wanted me to fight. Wanted me to hurt and I do. I hurt people, I can... I know how to kill I've killed I've seen them, in their minds, but I've done it too. I... I never wanted this."

"I know." She wiped the tears away, her own welling up again. "I know you didn't. I didn't either. My dad volunteered to fight the Alliance because it was a cause he believed in, and I remember asking... I asked him, if you believe that someone, a government is wrong, do you have go to battle. He told me know, that there are many ways to fight injustice, and I didn't have to pick up a weapon to fight. But the Alliance took me and turned me into a weapon."

"You would have been a great actress," River said softly.

"And you a great dancer." She smiled. "Who knows. Maybe we would have worked together. And become best friends."

"Save the 'verse through art. And science."

"You still can," Kaylee's voice said softly. The bed dipped again as Kaylee climbed on. She eased her body in the small space behind River and kissed her cheek. "The Alliance don't have you no more. You're free. You both can become great artists and stuff. Only, you know. Not famous."

River's face took on a dreamy smile as she leaned her head back against Kaylee. "Rebel art," she said. "Underground, influential. Subversive."

"What are we doing that's subversive?" Prophet asked. He lifted his head, sounding groggy.

"River and me are going to start putting on shows to twist people's minds against the Alliance," Camille said. "She'll dance, I'll act. Kaylee will do the special effects, since she's a genius with machines. And you can take tickets."

"Sounds good to me." He fell silent a moment, arm around Camille's waist, holding her like a teddy bear. Then he said to River, "You were always a good dancer."

Her face colored. "Thank you." She bit her lip, then said, "You were really smart."

"High praise," he said sardonically. "I thank you." Then he pressed his face into Camille's neck.

"Well, River," Kaylee said. "You have a big day tomorrow. Wanna get some sleep?"

"Can we stay?" she asked, question directed at Kaylee rather than Camille.

Kaylee looked at Camille questioningly.

"The more the merrier," Camille said with a half-smile. "We're all comfortable right now, like a litter of puppies."

She laughed. "Well, I guess you're right. We'll stay, then. Night, Camille. River."

River turned her head and kissed Kaylee. "Good-night."

_Wo xi wang ni man man si, dan kuai dian xia di yu: I wish you a slow death, but a quick ride to hell._


	6. Chapter 6

Mal woke early the next morning, a little disoriented by the fact he wasn't in his bunk. Even though the bed was comfortable and the room was the right temperature and airy and had a nice view of the mountains and the sky, he hadn't slept all that well the night before. Fact was, no matter how comfortable a place, nothing felt like home the way his ship did. And maybe he didn't sleep that well usually anyway, but it was different when he was on Serenity.

He had about an hour or so before his presence was required at breakfast. With any luck, he'd be there early enough to get a table no where near Camille. He didn't think he could take another awkward meal watching her watch him.

Mal showered and dressed. Like he'd told Prophet the day before, Serenity may be temporarily grounded, but it was still a working ship. There was paperwork to be done, and the ship could use a tune-up. Maybe he wouldn't be able to finish it all today, but he could certainly get started.

He was half-way down the hall when he heard a door open.

"Ma... Captain Reynolds!"

Camille. He didn't like her calling him Captain no more, but he understood it. They weren't exactly in a friendly kinda place right now.

He turned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Miss Bowling."

She winced. "I, uh. I..."

"Let me guess. Your last name isn't Bowling."

"No." She was dressed in the same clothes as last night, only now they looked rumpled and slept in. Her hair was a little knotted and tangled, part of it sticking up. She looked horrible, like she was sick or something. Her skin was chalky pale with dark circles under her eyes. And her eyes themselves were red, like she'd been crying.

Mal frowned and stepped closer to her. "You okay?"

Camille blinked her bloodshot eyes, surprised. Quickly, she ran a hand over her hair, then rubbed her eyes. "Um, yeah. Hard night. Prophet and I talked about Trinity, and then River came in and we were talking and..." She shrugged. "We did a lot of crying. That's all." She rubbed her eyes.

"But. You're okay."

"Yes, Mal. I am." She licked her lips and looked at him, color coming back to her face.

God, why did she pull at him so?

He cleared his throat and moved away. "Good. Shiny." He looked away. "I'm glad you're all right."

"Thank you."

"So. Is there some reason you stopped me?"

"Yeah. I, um. Prophet was lying to you yesterday. When he said that, you know. You managed to hit him because you weren't thinking before you swung?"

Mal turned back to her, frowning. "What?"

She smiled and sheepishly shrugged. "He wanted you to hit him. He wanted to be hurt. Prophet's not in a good place right now. He and Trinity were real close, and he's shook up because of her death. And now with River... He remembers her, and we all got issues that pop up when a new kid comes. That's why he's being jerk." Her nose wrinkled. "Not that he's ever a bright ball of sunshine in the best of cases."

"So I gathered. Why you telling me this, anyway? Trying to make me feel bad?"

"No. God, no, Mal, I... Not all of us got out. There's a chance that maybe you'll have to face a psychic one day and I don't want you fallin' back on bad advice that Prophet gave you on while on his self-destructive rampage."

"This may be hard for you believe, darlin', but I am not a moron. I seen what they did to Jayne, and he's got less thought in his brain then anyone I know. I ain't gonna do something stupid like think what some chou wang ba dan of a boy tells me is gospel. Dong ma?"

She looked wilted. Defeated. He hadn't meant to do that, but she twisted him around so that it just came out without him thinking.

"Right," Camille said, eyelashes lowered. She hugged her body, gnawing on her lower lip.

"Camille." He didn't like seeing her like this. It was easier before, when she'd been lying to him. It'd been easier when he thought she'd just... go back to being the same girl he'd... the same girl she'd been before the party.

Camille licked her lips. Staring at his belt buckle, she said softly, "Mal, I'm sorry I lied to you. I didn't know how to tell you the truth. I ain't never told no one that didn't already know. And I liked you. I liked you a lot. I didn't want you looking at me different."

"Okay. I guess I can get that. You're carrying around a big secret, hiding from the Alliance. I don't like that you put my crew in danger, but, then, I suppose that you didn't add any more than usual what with River and all. And, there's maybe a chance you saved me a bit, 'cause there's a chance that, had I seen you at that party I mighta asked you to dance."

That brought a smile to her face. "I would have flirted with you. Especially since I woulda known you didn't belong there. I would have wanted to know why." Her brow furrowed, mouth crimping. "And you have died. They would have killed you, just because I was there. Because I talked to you. All those people died because of me."

"No." Without thinking about it, he stepped into her, pulling her to him. "No, Camille, it weren't because of you. The Alliance bastards are the one who started it, not you. It weren't you and you have nothing to feel guilty about."

"I'm sorry." She wiped her eyes on his shirt. "My eyes hurt."

"Well, then, you need to stop crying." He cleared his throat, still holding onto her. "Cryin' is all well and good, but not if you're gonna blame yourself for things you ain't go no share in."

"It feels like everything I'm used to is ending. I don't know what to do." She clutched at him, pressing her face into his chest. "Garrison said that we might all have to leave here. That the Alliance might still track us down, and we'll have to scatter."

That thought had occurred to Mal. It was a nice moon, secluded, out of the way. No real travel came through, no nearby settlements. Still, there were a lot of people, and these kids were been looked for. You could only keep somethin' this big hidden for so long. "He got a plan?"

Camille nodded and looked up at him. "It's all worked out, always has been. Evacuation routes and all. What we're supposed to do after. There's codes and an all call and Garrison knows where we go next once everything is safe." Her lower lip trembled. "I don't want to leave. I mean, I'm fine traveling, but I don't want to have to go somewhere else when I need to come back."

"Sounds like you're taking on a whole heap of trouble that you don't need." He wiped a tear away. "Don't."

"But I hate..."

"Don't worry about it."

"But..."

"Camille."

"Right. Right, sorry." She wiped her eyes and smiled in a self-deprecating way. "Um. Anyway. You, uh. You might want to talk to Garrison about that. The scatter thing."

"Any reason why?"

She blinked up at him. "He kind of wants me to stick with River. Just 'cause we're friends and all. And he kind of wants me to stay with Prophet."

Mal raised his eyebrow. "He wants you and Prophet to come on my ship."

Camille nodded, biting her lower lip once more.

Woa de tian a. "Well that's just. Shiny," he said with no real enthusiasm.

"I'll talk to him. Or you can. Tell him that you don't want us around. That it won't work."

"Camille..."

"Mal, it's all right." Gently, she pushed his arms off her and stepped away. "I should go shower and put on clothes that don't stink and all. I'll see you at breakfast. And, um. I'll try not to sit at the same table, because..."

"I don't hate you," he said, just to make her shut up. And because it was true.

Her face lit up all pretty and her lips curled into a pleased little smile. "I'm glad to hear."

"I mean. If you want to sit together, that'd be fine. I mean. You know."

"Yeah. All right." She ran her hand through her hair again. "I'll see you later."

"Right. Later." He hesitated a moment, then turned and resumed walking down the hall to his ship.

"It's O'Malley."

Mal turned. Camille was still standing in the hall where he'd left her, hands in her pockets, head titled in a way that reminded him of the old Camille that he'd known back in the black. "What?"

"My real last night. It's O'Malley." She licked her lips, then added, "Kathleen O'Malley."

"You're the Kathleen River kept talking about."

"It used to be my name."

Mal nodded. "I understand. I'll see you at breakfast." Then, feeling a little lighter, he continued on to his ship.

* * *

Out of everything that Simon had had to give up in his quest to save River, hot water was what he missed the most. Not just hot water; as much hot water as he could use. More hot water than he could ever use. And he had it, at least for the moment.

Last night, he'd taken a bath. When the water had gotten cold, he'd filled it back up with hot water and took another one. The first thing he did on waking was get into the shower. For the past half hour, he'd just been standing under the spray, face tilted into it, letting the water cascade down his body, washing away the filth and blood and grime and stress of the past few years.

An alarm sounded, signaling that it was close to breakfast. With a heavy sigh, Simon turned the water off and stepped out. He toweled his body off before stepping out. As he scrubbed at his hair, trying to sop up the excess water, he moved back into his room.

"Morning."

Simon leapt a foot in the air, heart seizing. "Jesus!" he swore. He yanked the towel off his head.

Prophet was stretched across the unmade bed. He was on his side, head resting on Simon's bunched up pillow, a book flat on the mattress.

"Prophet," Simon started, but he didn't know what else to say. The boy obviously planned to annoy him to death; Simon was simply thankful that he'd let Simon sleep in peace last night. "Good morning," he finally decided on. He dropped the towel to his waist and wrapped it around to preserve some sense of modesty.

"Isn't it nice to have hot water?" Prophet said, turning the page. He glanced up at Simon, eyes hot on Simon's skin.

Simon flushed, his normally pale skin, already reddened from the shower, burning hotter. "Um, yes. It is." He turned away, going to the closet.

"Of course, I wouldn't really know," Prophet said. There was a rustle of sheets; when Simon glanced back, he saw that the boy had turned to face the wall, abandoning his book seemingly to give Simon privacy. "What it's like not to have hot water, I mean. Not really. Oh, a few times at the Academy, I was too sick or insane to take a shower. They had to hose me off in one of the rooms with a drain on the floor. The water wasn't cold or anything, but I wasn't exactly in the frame of mind to enjoy it. It's probably on tape somewhere; you think this place is monitored, you should have seen it there. We had no privacy."

"Prophet..."

"Lucky none of us could masturbate, huh? Bank on the black market. Or not so black market. There are plenty of dirty freaks in the Alliance who'd love to have their own personal..."

Simon, who'd dressed, quickly moved across the room and covered Prophet's mouth with his hand. "Please, stop." He couldn't hear it anymore. He didn't want to imagine River being hosed down.

Prophet pulled Simon's hand off his mouth. "Sorry," he said softly. "I had a bad night. I'm a little mouthy this morning."

Simon snorted. "This morning? Then how do you explain yesterday?"

He rolled onto his back, still holding Simon's hand. Prophet's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I was just trying to get your attention. Did it work?" He rubbed his thumb over Simon's palm.

Ai, how did he not see this coming sooner? Or, actually, how did this happen so soon? When Prophet hadn't tried to seduce him the night before, Simon had been relieved and assumed that that was that. That the game was over and Prophet had lost interest. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

"Prophet..."

"You don't have to make this complicated."

"Yes, I do. I'm not comfortable with casual. I never have been."

Prophet's lips twitched. "Yeah. I figured." He reached up and put his hand on the back of Simon's neck, tugging Simon down. "Still. This is going to be stressful for you, too." His breath was warm against Simon's face.

Simon licked his lips. Prophet's eyes were so blue and they stood out against his charcoal black tear-dampened lashes. "I was a trauma surgeon. I can handle stress."

"That was a long time ago. And this is your sister."

"It is. But I can't sleep with an emotionally... depressed young man because I'm stressed. I can't... I'd never be sure I wasn't taking advantage."

"Oh, please."

"No, really." But he traced Prophet's full lower lip with his thumb, a hint of longing twisting his stomach. "I'm sorry."

Prophet smirked and let him go. "I'll live." He sat up as Simon did, wiping the last vestiges of tears from his eyes. "I'm not unstable. You were going to say unstable," he said, smiling wryly as Simon opened his mouth to protest. "You were. But you're wrong. I'm not unstable. I'm simply... fu dong."

"That's just unstable in Chinese."

"Not exactly. I mean I'm drifting right now. Have been for years. I'm looking for an anchor." He sighed and rubbed his face. "I had one for awhile, but both Trinity and Camille took off and left me behind, cutting me adrift."

"Why don't you leave?"

"I'm not exactly good at the whole incognito thing. I stick out. Camille's a true chameleon, the only one who is really good at completely submerging her personality and changing her looks so it's hard for even her best friends to recognize her, but everyone who goes out on jobs can do it to some degree. Garrison doesn't seem to think I'm good enough for it to be safe to send me on jobs."

"Do you think you're good enough?"

Prophet smiled and framed his face with his hands. "Who'd want to change this shayna punim?" he asked.

Simon raised his eyebrow.

"Pretty face. It's Yiddish. An ancient language."

"I see. So. You're stuck here, for all intents and purposes. What do you do?"

He shrugged. "I got to class. Go on the so-called missions that Garrison concocts for us so those of us left behind don't flip, read, and try not to get so bored that my mind implodes."

Simon narrowed his eyes and looked at Prophet narrowly. "It doesn't... really do that, does it?"

Prophet laughed and sat up, scooting so his body was close to Simon's. "What do you do on Serenity?"

"Patch up the myriad of cuts and gun-shot wounds the crew manages to accumulate. And, of course, work with my limited resources and even scanter knowledge of what was done to her to try and help River face with world with some semblance of control. Actually, I don't even have to do that so much any more. She's not fine, exactly, and has only a basic grasp on her powers, but she is so much better than she was."

"She's as good as you can get her with what you have."

Simon nodded and plucked at the edge of Prophet's sleeve. It was frayed at the edges, like Prophet wore it incessantly. The shiny, flippant veneer of the day before was wearing away to reveal the human underneath.

"Garrison can help. He's got a lot of experience with this."

"I'm just afraid... When she was freed from the Academy, I was told that she was... their prodigy. The star pupil."

Prophet smiled bitterly. "I wouldn't know. After the experiments began, I never got to see her. Or anyone, you know. Except for the doctors and the occasional Alliance stooge." He turned his hand over, catching Simon's. "Although, at some point, I do sort of remember that things got a little easier. Some of the mental pressure eased." He sighed, nose wrinkling. "It's going to kind of suck around here, once they really start working with her. She might, you know. Get crazier, at least for awhile. We're all schizophrenic, all of us. Because of what they did. But the doctors give us an antipsychotic medication to go along with whatever other chemicals our body isn't making. But before they figure out the right mix, we just go... insane, you know? And with insanity comes a complete loss of control over our powers." He closed his eyes. "It's going to get hard for everyone again. Hopefully the weather will hold, so we can go outside."

"Does it help?"

"Proximity? A little. It depends how strong the psychic. Me and Trinity were the worst until now." His voice caught on Trinity's name. "I wasn't here for her. Everyone told me about how hard I was. It'll be interesting with River."

"I'm sorry," Simon said, not knowing what else to say.

He shook his head. "Don't wish the confusion and chaos on anyone, no matter what my own personal discomfort. Well," he amended, "I wish the confusion and chaos on those who did this to us." Prophet looked up, eyes blazing. "I swear to heaven that, one day, I will kill them. And not quickly, either. Slowly and painfully, I will punish the people who did this to us."

Simon shivered, his hand squeezing Prophet's tightly. "Let me help."

Prophet smiled. "Doctor, anyone who wants is invited to come. It's going to be a fucking party and you are welcome to be my date."


	7. Chapter 7

She remembered when she was little, how her mother always came into the doctor's office with her. She would hold River's hand while the doctor asked questions and looked in her throat and eyes and ears, asking strange questions and poking her with needles before giving her a sucker. Mother always tried to make everything less frightening, but she was ineffectual because River knew that, truthfully, there was nothing to be frightened of. Routine exams were nothing but that: routine. Everyone had to do them once every cycle, and no one was ever unduly hurt.

It was partly for this reason that River always held herself in contempt at the fear she had on stepping into the exam room. She could remember it all so clearly, her, dressed like a little doll in her blue jumper and shiny shoes, hearing them clack coldly on the tile floor. Everything was so much bigger than she was and even though she knew she shouldn't be afraid, she was still just a little girl.

Little girl with a big brain. And even though everyone knew she experienced far more of the world then they because of that brain, they still treated her like a little girl and talked down to her when she was in that office.

Just like the Academy.

"All right, River," Dr. Yasbro said, breaking her out of her endlessly cyclical reverie. "I'm going to start with a normal exam. Very routine and non-invasive. However, this is your first time here and I believe I'm the first doctor to work with you who isn't your brother, right?"

River nodded, ignoring Kaylee, who was standing next to the exam table River was sitting on, squeezing her hand. "That is correct."

"Most of the time, the kids tend to get upset or frightened even during this exam." She was still talking to River, but now included Simon in the conversation as well. "If that happens, River, if you start feeling any anxiety, you need to tell me right away."

"It's just an exam."

Dr. Yasbro nodded, a small smile on her face. "You're right, it is. But this isn't the only exam you'll be having today. And anxiety builds on itself. We'll take as long as you need to get through this comfortably, but we do need to get through it all. It's vital to help you get better."

I was better, she wanted to protest, but that was a falsehood. She was managing. Not living. Not better.

"I'm nervous," she said softly. Then she licked her lips and asked, "What if I decided not to tell you?"

"It becomes obvious during the tests, so we bring in another kid to help keep you calm and monitor your moods."

"You use them against each other," Simon said.

Dr. Yasbro shrugged. "If you want to think of it like that, then I suppose. But that also implies that we're doing something that will harm them and that they need to be used against one another."

Simon shook his head. "That's not what I mean, I'm sorry. I suppose I'm nervous, too."

"I understand. What those Alliance bastards did to all these kids was..." She broke off, jaw clenched tightly. "Anyway," Dr. Yasbro continued in a calmer tone. "Yes, the kids often help monitor each other during these treatments. A lot of times, especially at the beginning, the only people they trust is one another. River is..."

River tuned her out, not wanting to hear what was coming, even though she couldn't help it. She heard everything. But, sometimes, when she wanted, she was able to drown out what people were saying and thinking by letting everything else in. The drugs Simon gave her, and being out for so long, helped River be able to, if not block out, at least filter everything. Now, she let go of her tenuous control and allowed her mind to be bombarded.

Almost immediately, another mind connected up with hers. / Not a good idea, wei xiao shui/ Prophet's voice said in her head, drowning out all the other voices.

/ Are you watching me/

/ A little. I'm supposed to be concentrating on Bal's fascinating lecture on distopia novels of twentieth century Earth-that-was and how the themes still resonate today, but I find your brother much more fascinating. /

/ Stay out of his mind. His thoughts are private. /

/ Should be, maybe. But aren't. Not here, and definitely not after what those bastards did to us, eh/

/ I don't think I like you. I don't like how you won't leave Simon alone and how you're overly cynical about everything. /

/ I'm cynical because I'm a realist. /

/ You're cynical because you don't want to be hurt. You're used to everyone leaving you./

Prophet's sigh whispered around her head. / I'm not afraid of people leaving. I know they will. Knowledge is power. /

/ Then why do you follow Simon like a lost puppy/

/ He's interesting. And new. /

/ You want him to adopt you. /

/ If that's what you kids are calling it these days, then, okay. /

/ Simon hasn't looked at anyone since I left. Even Mal he went after more because I was suddenly grown up and he was lost. / It was River's turn to sigh now. / I want my brother to be happy. / Then, because the image of Simon and Prophet at breakfast together, absentmindedly keeping each other's coffee cups full, passing food before it was asked for, and handing needed utensils to one another as if they'd been together for years instead of only met the day before, still burned brightly in her mind, River had to add /You fit him better than he's ever fit anyone before. You could probably make him happy, if you tried. /

She could feel Prophet falter, her sudden earnestness diffusing the carefully constructed armor of insolence and flippancy he wore so tightly around him.

/ Well. I can give him a happy, if that's what you mean / he finally managed. But he was definitely shaken.

River smiled and was just about to say something to him when a new mind intruded.

/ I thought so/ Camille said. / Honestly, Prophet, are you trying to piss off Dr. Yasbro/

/ Not my fault, xin ai. She tried to calm down by drowning. I plunged into the river and dragged River out. And now, I'll let her get back to her doctor's exam./ His mind blinked out.

/ Come on, River. The doctor needs you. /

River opened her eyes. Camille was standing at River's side, holding her hand. Beyond her, River could see Dr. Yasbro, Simon, and Kaylee, in a sort of clump, looking at her. Only Simon and Kaylee looked worried, though, and that reassured her; if the people who'd been through this before didn't seem to think her reaction was extraordinary, then it must not be.

"Sorry," she said.

Camille squeezed her hand. "Don't worry. Sometimes, we can't get kids out of it for hours. Prophet drowned himself for three days before Trinity was able to drag him back. It's normal."

"What upset you, River?" Dr. Yasbro asked, stepping back to the table. She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around River's arm and slipped an oxygen reader on her index finger.

"When you were discussing the Alliance, I felt uncomfortable. I wanted to block you out."

"I'm sorry, River," Simon said. He sounded truly contrite.

She managed a tiny smile. "Not your fault." River tried to relax while her blood pressure was taken, then as the doctor listened to her heart and breathing and other very normal, routine parts of a doctors exam. Normal. Just like when she was a little girl. "Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"When are you removing the... blocker? And the monitor." She glanced at Camille, who'd retreated to the couch in the corner of the room. "Will I have what she has?"

"Yes, you will. Every kid has a monitor. It helps regulate your blood chemistry, help compensate for the loss of your amygdala."

"If I may interrupt," Simon said, "why did they strip it? What purpose does it serve?"

Dr. Yasbro looked at River, clearly asking for her permission to discuss it. River liked that she was being consulted. As she was curious as well, she nodded.

"As far as we can tell, ever kid here was born a psychic to some degree. We don't know how or why there are so many of them, at this point, but the records we have found on the research indicate they were chosen for powers they already had. As you know, the amygdala helps us deal with unwanted emotions. It allows us to filter. The amygdala works the same way when trying to filter out and through other people's emotions. These kids were either born with the power or it developed during early childhood, and they learned how to use the amygdala to filter through all emotions and thoughts. Take it away..."

"And they become psychics without restraint," Simon finished. He looked at River. "You were always so intuitive. You knew so much at such a young age."

River didn't know how to respond.

"Trinity and Prophet both were above average on the PSI scale before they were entered into the program. I wouldn't be surprised if River was the same," Dr. Yasbro said. "The rest were probably mostly empathic before the stripping. Good with people, good at sensing what they were going to do next, sometimes hearing thoughts, but it wasn't until the Alliance was through with them that they became full-blown psychics. Since their strengths were already geared towards predicting the movements of people and groups, they were trained as soldiers, while River, Prophet, and Trinity were going to be more elite assassins."

River swallowed, remembering how she knew exactly how to handle the gun, how to triangulate an enemies position for optimum efficiency. How when Jubal Early came for her, she knew exactly where to go and what to do so that her family would be safe against the enemy. "Downloaded into my brain," she whispered. "Not a girl, a computer."

"Don't ever believe that, River," Dr. Yasbro said firmly. She put a hand on River's shoulder and squeezed. "You are a girl. An almost grown woman who has a wonderful life ahead of her. To answer your question, the procedure to put the monitor in and take the blocker out will either be today or tomorrow. We need to analyze your blood chemistry and take a baseline of your powers first. Depending on how you feel after that, we'll do the procedure after lunch or put it off until tomorrow."

"Take a baseline?"

River felt a thrill of fear rush through Camille as Dr. Yasbro crossed the room. The image began to form in Camille's mind and River's stomach turned.

"This is what we'll use to measure your powers, River." Dr. Yasbro opened a drawer and took out the instrument.

Terror jolted through River at the familiar site. It was just the same as from the Academy, the wires and sensors and the horrible holders for the needles that would penetrate her skull.

"River?" Kaylee said worriedly, the first thing she'd said in awhile. She came back to River's side and took her hand. "You okay, hon?"

"I... It's going to hurt." She got off the table and pulled Kaylee around her. "They put it on your head and there's a needle that goes into... into your brain and then it's hard to stop. You can't stop and everything is loud and it's all inside and I can't. I can't, you can't ask me to, please, not again. I can't..."

"River," Dr. Yasbro started, but River just pressed herself into Kaylee harder, trying to block out the words.

/It won't hurt/ Camille said shakily in River's mind. /Not like there./

"I can't," she gasped.

"Unfortunately, you have to," Dr. Yasbro said softly.

"I can keep living like this."

"No, you can't, River." It was Simon who spoke this time, sounding as if he was in just as much anguish as she was. "I'm not... doing a good enough job at helping you. There's still so much I don't know and we need to know. We need to. You do. You've seen how ... healthy Camille is. How all these kids are. I want you to be like that."

River sniffed and rested her cheek on Kaylee's shoulder. "I'm never going to be the same. Your sister is gone. Now there's only me."

Simon put his arms around her and kissed her hair. "You are my sister, River. You're still my sister. You just... grew up. We all do. You just... had to go through hell to do it, and I'm sorry about that. But now you're back and I love you just as much as if you were still the person you were. I want you to be whole."

"It's not that bad, River," Camille said. "Not like it was there. It's an open room, you can have all of us in there with you. You know that we can take the doctors if they do anything wrong; we're all trained soldiers. I'll be with you. Kaylee will be with you. You won't be alone."

"I'll never leave your side, bao bei," Kaylee swore.

River looked up at Kaylee. "Will you still love me tomorrow?" she whispered. "If you see me like that. Like a science experiment. A computer, not a girl, a... t-thing with needles in my head and lines on a screen that measure my brain. Can you still love me like that?"

Kaylee smiled, her nose wrinkling in the way River adored. "I'd love you no matter what, silly. And it ain't like I've never seen no one with a needle in them or nothin'. So what if they're sticking in your brain instead of your arm? I know machines, River, I know what it looks like when you take one apart. You ain't a machine and your ain't a computer. You're my girl, and you always will be."

Somewhat reassured, River lay her head against Kaylee's chest and snuggled against her. "I love you," she whispered.

"Do this, then? For me?"

"Yes. I will."


	8. Chapter 8

"So, she looks to be in good shape, don't she?" Mal asked as he, Zoe, and Wash climbed a grassy hill outside.

Zoe nodded. "She does, sir. I think that, once Kaylee refits the engines and my husband finishes whatever he's doing to the controls, she'll be flying better than she has in awhile."

Mal smiled and tilted his head back into the sun. "Nice of Pike lending us parts we need. Can't help but wonder what he wants."

"Didn't Camille say that Garrison wants you to take her if everyone has to evacuate the moon?" Wash said. "I mean, call me crazy, but maybe he wants to make sure that his little princess is safe and sound on a ship that won't, you know. Fall to pieces while in flight."

"Don't see why he doesn't just take her with him," Zoe remarked. "He never takes his eyes off her. Do you know anything about their relationship, Captain?"

"You mistakin' me for someone interested in idle gossip, Zoe?" Mal scowled at her, mood immediately dampening. "Don't know, don't care."

"Right," Zoe said in that inscrutable voice of hers. "Of course not."

"Well, I know," Wash said. "I was talking to one of the boys earlier. Apparently, Garrison and Camille were a hot item from the moment she got here. Then, Garrison told her they were through, she tried to make him jealous by sleeping around, that didn't work, and so she took off. Word is that he's still completely infatuate with her, though, never got over her. I guess that it's the age difference that made him call it off,rather than him falling out of love."

"Thank you, Wash," Mal said sharply. "Not that it's any of our business or nothing. I just figured that he don't want her with him cause she's so much trouble. We had her a month, look at all she did."

"Oh, yeah, a whole heap of trouble," said Zoe blandly. "Don't her part on the ship, bein' friends with everyone, getting us a huge payday, and finding help for River."

"No to mention making the captain sometimes human," Wash added.

Mal gave them both a deadly look. "What about us almost being killed by the Alliance? Or how much blood we had to waste on her? She's more trouble than she's worth. Who'd want that..." He trailed off as they crested the hill.

At the bottom of the hill was a soccer field. There were kids spread all over the field, determined expressions on their faces as they fought for the ball.

Currently, Camille had it in her possession. She dribbled it down the field, adroitly avoiding those who tried to steal it, moving like lightening over the grass. She was fast, but not fast enough to avoid everyone, and these kids played rough. There was a look of concentration on her face as she powered down the field, looking for openings and passing to her teammates, only to get the ball passed back to her.

She was beautiful.

"Yeah," Zoe said, watching Camille flip over on of the members of the other team, never losing the ball for an infant. "Who'd want someone with those skills and those looks on a ship when both might come in handy. The captain would have to be crazy."

"Oh!" Wash exclaimed as Camille was hit beneath a boy three times her side.

Camille went flying, but landed in a neat roll. When she was on her feet again, she chased the boy down and threw herself onto his back.

"Wow," Wash said. "And I though Jayne had interesting rules when playing games."

"Looks like he doesn't quite no what to do." Zoe pointed at Jayne, who was standing on the field, looking even more dumbfounded than usual.

Camille was still fighting with the boy. Her nose was also bleeding, but she didn't seem to notice. They were too busy struggling.

"Camille!" Mal heard someone shout on the field.

She let go of the boy right away, and, using him as leverage, rocketed herself at another girl, who had possession of the ball. Both girls went down, and one of Camille's teammates got the ball, dribbling it down the field. It was passed a few times before it went back to Camille, who was now nearest to the goal.

"Go Camille!" Kaylee shouted from the sidelines.

"What is going on?" he asked, joining Kaylee, River, Simon, and Simon's new shadow, on the sidelines.

Predictably, it was Prophet who answered him. "Something between a battle and a soccer game." He winced when Camille was again taken down, this time by three different people. The ball was kicked down the field, away from the goal Camille had been taking it to.

No one seemed to care where the ball went, though. Camille had gone crazy, viciously attacking her assailants; four of her teammates joined the fray while the rest did their best to contain the fight.

"This normal?" Zoe asked. The doctors were swarming the field, blowing whistles and forcing kids to the ground and out of the game. The ball was taken away and anyone not fighting was glaring at the kids who were.

"Oh, definitely. Actually, this is nothing. You should see us trying to play baseball."

Camille was pulled off the field by two doctors; her attackers were taken off in opposite directions. Camille was still fighting, and Mal could hear her cussing up a storm, ranting about how it wasn't fair. The doctors didn't listen; they simply dumped her on the sidelines and formed a wall around her, blocking his view.

"Fun times," he said.

"Yeah, well, it's hard for us not to see any kind of competition as a war," Prophet said. "We were bred to win."

Mal said nothing as the game resumed without Camille or the worst of her attackers. He stepped away from Prophet and put his hand on Simon's back. "How did things go today?" he asked softly in Simon's ear, like that would stop Prophet from eavesdropping.

Simon tilted his head back until it was almost resting on Mal's shoulder. "Okay. We had a rough patch when they wanted to test her powers, so the doctor said we could do it after lunch. Give her a chance to calm down."

He glanced at River, who was sitting on the sidelines, eyes distant. There was the remainder of what had once been a flower between her fingers and she shredded the stem slowly, looking off into nothingness. It was creepy; she reminded him of how she'd been back when Simon and her had first come aboard Serenity.

"Is this a good idea? I mean, you think these people will really be able to help her?"

"I hope so," was all Simon said, eyes sliding shut with worry.

Mal watched in disapproval as Prophet, without looking away from the field, reached out and took Simon's hand. The tension around Simon's eyes eased with the touch.

"I trust Camille," Simon said, opening his eyes again to look at Mal. "She tells me that the doctors can be trusted and that, even though the beginning can be hard, River will get better. I have to trust that." It was almost like he didn't even realize he was holding hands with the kid.

Mal stepped back. "I'll believe it when I see it. And if I think they ain't doing her any good, Doctor, then I'm getting us off this moon. Dong ma?"

Simon smiled like he didn't believe Mal and said, "Of course."

Scowl back in place, Mal moved over to Kaylee. He took her gently by the arm and pulled her away from the group, needing to speak to her in private.

"Hey, Captain! You finally pulled yourself away from Serenity." Kaylee chirped with a big smile. "They got snacks and stuff down at the end of the field if you're hungry."

"I'm good, thanks. I was hoping that you might come take a look at the engines a little later. Garrison's lettin' us have free reign of his tools and ship parts, and I thought we might upgrade some of them parts you're always goin' on about needin' to be fixed."

Her smile dimmed, and she threw a glance over at River. "Oh, I don't know, Captain. River needs me to be with her right now, you know? I don't want to leave her."

"I understand," Mal said patiently. "But it's not like you need to be by her side every second, right? What about when she's with the doctor?"

"Oh, no. She definitely needs me then. They're gonna check her powers later on, and she was all freaked out scared this morning when they just told her they had to. I couldn't leave her. And then, they're taking the androgen blocker thing out soon. I definitely have to be with her for that. I mean, she's my girlfriend. I'm gonna be first. And it ain't just because I'm her girlfriend that I gotta be there. Even if we was just friends, I'd do this for her, no problem or questions."

He didn't want to hear this. Kaylee and River were like his sisters; he didn't want to know what they did behind closed doors where he couldn't see or hear them. "Yeah, I know, Kaylee, but..."

"I mean, Camille was tellin' us about what happened when she first came," Kaylee continued on like she hadn't heard Mal. "She was all confused and scared and afraid to let anyone touch her. She didn't have anyone in the world she was comfortable with, and River, at least, has me. I need to be there for her, just in case."

"What happened to Camille?" Mal demanded, stepping closer to her.

Kaylee blinked, then shrugged. "Oh, it weren't nothing horrible, in retrospect, I guess. When she started getting, all, you know. Horny and all, one of the Companions, the male one, came to sleep with her, But she was too scared. It weren't until Garrison all but locked her in a room with him that she finally had sex for the first time. I guess that's why she's so hung up on him in some ways, you know? He was her... Captain. Captain?" Kaylee shouted after him, but Mal didn't listen.

He was too consumed by rage to see straight, much less hear. Heart pounding in his ears, he stormed across the field, eyes locked on the man standing in front of Camille, smile on his face, eyes gazing on her fondly.

Mal was going to kill him.

"And I promise no more fighting," Camille was saying. "Just let me play."

"No. You're nose is still bleeding."

"It's just..." Camille whirled suddenly, turning on Mal. She blocked the punch he tried to throw at Garrison, then slammed the heel of her hand into his breastbone, holding him back. "Mal! What are you doing?"

Mal grabbed Camille by the arm and pulled her behind him while he yanked his gun from its holster from the other hand. Zoe, who'd rushed across the field to be with him, took Camille, holding her protectively behind her.

"You bastard," Mal swore. "You qing wa cao de liu mang." He cocked his gun and pointed it at Garrison's head.

Garrison raised an eyebrow. "What is going on?" he asked, steeling underlying his voice.

"I thought there was somethin' a little off about this whole operation. I knew we couldn't trust you. Not really. No one is that good hearted that all they want to do is help a buncha kids. Not if there ain't something in it for him."

"There is something in it for me," Garrison said. "And they know that. I help them control their powers and, at the same time, I get to train my own personal army to use against the Alliance. I use their weapons against them, but give them a life far better than they ever would have with the Alliance."

Mal snorted. "And, in the meantime, you get your own personal harem of sex slaves, don't you? A whole mess of kids just out of adolescents, some not even, that you get to put your dirty old man hands on." He stepped closer. "You raped her."

"I what?"

"You raped her. Camille."

Behind him, Camille gasped. "What? Mal... Zoe, please. I'm fine." Then she was in front of Mal, inserting herself between Garrison and Mal. "Put the gun away, Mal, there's been some mistake."

"No mistake. Kaylee told me everything. Bout how you were scared and then this bastard locked you in a room until you slept with him. Don't see how that's much of a mistake.""

"Camille?" Garrison said in a low, dangerous voice.

Camille put her hand on Mal's arm and squeezed. "Please. Mal, he didn't rape me. He didn't rape any of us. Garrison helped me. You have to remember, I was young. I was sixteen years old and dealing with feelings I'd never had before and I was scared."

Mal looked at her wide, pleading eyes. "He helped you. You want to know what I think? I think that this hormone blocker thing that y'all keep talking about is nothing but a load of go se. I think that y'all are nothing more than a bunch of abused teenagers who ain't never been aroused before because you'd spent too much time bein' tortured and abused until you came here. And I think this man," he gestured with his gun, "is takin' advantage of the fact that he's got a bunch of teenagers feeling all sexual for the first time in their lives. He's tellin' you all that what you're feeling is because of something the Alliance did, instead of it just being a normal, natural part of growing up. He gets you all scared and excited and lets you experiment with each other. Only, when you don't want to or aren't ready, he don't let that stop him. He takes you anyway."

"The hormone blocker is very real, Captain," Garrison said, voice icy cold. "It prevents them from having any sexual feeling in their genital areas. Once we rid their bodies of it, the body starts producing it again and they start experiencing new feelings and urges and..."

"You know what it sounds to me?" Mal said, allowing Camille to take the gun from his hand, even as he stepped closer to Garrison. "Almost sounds to me like you tell 'em what they're gonna feel and what their gonna feels sounds a lot like what would happen if you gave them an aphrodisiac. And how would they know the difference? They already think you're the hero, right? Savin' them an all from the big, bad Alliance, bringing them to the moon where they get to rename themselves and have anything they could ever want. What else are they supposed to do but pay you back with their bodies once you get them all hot and bothered?"

"Mal, really," Simon said next to him, but Mal shook him off and said, "And then, when one of them, the youngest, prettiest one, don't want to fill your or anyone's bed, what to you do? Lock her up until she has no choice but to submit."

"Mal!" Camille snapped.

"And then you went and strung her along for how long until she weren't no to anyone else around her? All young and in love with her savior, old enough to be her father twice over, I bet, and then you just cut her off. Cut her off and send her out into the world to be shot and stabbed and hurt, thinkin' that she ain't worth nothin' because you don't love her."

Garrison shoved Camille from between them and punched Mal. "I sent her away because I don't deserve her. She is too young, and she needs to be with someone her age. Her age, Malcolm Reynolds, not you. Not some backwater, uneducated smuggler almost twice her age. If you think you have a place to stand on the moral high ground, you're sadly mistaken."

Mal punched him, feeling the satisfying crunch as Garrison's nose broke under his fist and hearing the pained, "oof" as he drove his hand into Garrison's stomach, knocking him back. "At least I never drugged and raped her!"

"Neither did I."

"Stop it!" Camille screamed. She tackled Mal, forcing him to the ground, pinning his arms against the grass with her hands, her whole weight resting on them. "Stop it, stop it, stop it," she gasped, body shaking. She buried her face in his neck, like she was seeking comfort from him rather than trying to stop him.

It was as bad as if she'd hit him. Worse. He was right about this, he knew it, but, dammit, Camille loved that sonofabitch. Least Mal coulda done was done this in private. He just got so angry thinking about what he'd done to her...

Leave it to him to go about this all wrong. But then, that's who he was. Charge in and deal with the situation before finding out all the facts, that's what he did. Besides, it weren't like this was really about Garrison maybe hurtin' her or any of them, not really. They'd both been looking for an excuse since the moment Mal had set foot on the moon.

"All right. All right, I'll stop."

Camille let go of his arms, but didn't move. Mal put his arms around her and stood, taking her with him.

Garrison seemed subdued as well. He was holding his nose to stay the blood that flowed from it, somehow still managing to look dignified. "Obviously you have concerns," he said stiffly, eyes on Camille, who was leaning against Mal, face pressed against his chest, arms around his body. "I can assure you that we only have River's best interest in mind and that none of these children have been mistreated by us." He winced suddenly and said, "None of the... students."

"Ain't no good way to refer to them, is there?" Mal conceded, just as stiffly. "You understand, though, that just you sayin' you ain't hurtin' them don't make me more inclined to believe you."

"Of course. That's why I propose that Dr. Tam perform and supervises all procedures on his sister." He turned to Simon. "You'll have full access to all our files, all our medications and stocks. You'll see first hand that we are not drugging them with aphrodisiacs so we can take advantage of their youth."

Simon cleared his throat, rubbing his neck. "I, uh." He cleared his throat again. "Uh, thank you. But, I can't do it today. I need time to study." He shot a look at Mal.

Mal shrugged, not sure what to say. If it were up to him, they'd be heading off this planet back to the black where Mal could make sure Camille was safe from this man. But he couldn't just make that call, not if Simon really thought they could help River, and there weren't no way Mal was leaving any of his crew behind.

"Go with the doctors now, start reading up on the procedure," Garrison suggested. "I'm sure you'll find it fairly simple, a surgeon of your skill. We have simulators so you can practice beforehand, and any of the doctors can answer your questions."

"Um," Simon glanced at Mal again, then said, "That sounds fine. I'll, um, Kaylee?" He turned.

"I think River and me will go back to Serenity for a bit," Kaylee said, arm around River's waist. River was still looking spacey, like she weren't really there. "Maybe being home might help an all."

Simon nodded, looked at Mal, then back at Garrison. "Thank you. I'll go get started, then."

A doctor whom Mal didn't recognize came up and touched Simon on the arm. Cocking her head towards the base, she led Simon away.

"I should have this looked at," Garrison said. He let go of his nose, which started gushing blood immediately. "Everyone should get to their next class," he added, voice raised.

There was a collective groan from the field as the kids started to trudge back to the base.

Camille pulled away from Mal. She wouldn't meet his eyes as she wiped tears from her face, turning away.

Garrison looked down at her, eyes icy and remote. They stood for a long moment, just looking at each other as the kids all slowed and everyone looked at them, wondering what they'd do.

And the, Garrison turned on his heel and left without saying anything at all.

"Oh, wow, Camille," someone said, and then, like a mob, all the kids started heading towards her.

Without thinking about it, Mal picked up Camille and turned, walking as fast as he could back to the ship and away from this gorram school of mind readers who couldn't mind their own gorram business.


	9. Chapter 9

Back on Serenity, not speaking to Mal once again. This was stupid; Camille could just as easily be in her own room not speaking to anyone, but, no, she was doing it here. Because this is where he'd brought her and at least there was a lock on the door here. Plus, there weren't any mind readers and Camille really wanted to be alone.

How could he do that? Think that about Garrison? Mal was wrong, so really, _really_ wrong. Garrison did _not_ rape her and, God, now everything was... tainted.

Not because Camille thought that Mal was right. The androgen blocker was real, the feelings she'd gone through right after were real, and her desire for Garrison had always been real.

But now, every time she thought about her first time, she was going to hear Mal's voice in her head. Because, truth was, some of what he'd said made sense. She had been young, and while she didn't know about the prettiest, she had been vulnerable. Maybe he should have just let the Companions do their job before taking her to his room. Maybe he should have let the other kids calm her down. Maybe...

Maybe he should have been prepared for the consequences of sleeping with her. And not gotten scared so far down the line.

Camille sighed and rolled onto her stomach, pulling a pillow over her head.

Garrison still loved her. She could see that, feel it, and read it in his head. Garrison as a sensitive, and, more than that, he was good at masking his thoughts. Only the most powerful were able to read him all the time, and they'd all refused to tell Camille what he thought about her.

She'd known that Mal hated Garrison for having been with her. She hadn't realized that Garrison would hate Mal for Camille's feelings for him.

There was a knock on the door. "Camille?" Inara called. "May I come in?"

She sighed and forced herself out of the bed. Crossing the room, she unlocked the door, then quickly went back. "It's open," she said, throwing herself onto it and pulling the covers over herself.

"Is it really that bad?" Inara asked, laughing softly.

"Yes," she replied, voice muffled by the comforter.

The bed dipped and Inara put her hand on Camille's back, massaging it gently. "I thought maybe I should come talk to you."

"You heard what happened"

"Well. It is a small school."

Camille laughed. "Yeah. And it's even smaller by the instant communication of telepathy."

"It does help get information around." She rubbed Camille's back a little harder. "So."

"So what?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Camille, I'm worried about you. About what Mal said happened between you and Garrison."

Camille groaned and pushed the covers off her head. "Mal's got it all wrong. Garrison didn't rape me. He didn't force me to do anything. It was a lovely, perfect first time and Mal is ruining it for me!" With hat, she pulled the covers back over her head.

There was a moment of silence. Then, Inara remarked, "Loving Mal is a lot like stabbing yourself in the heart over and over again, isn't it?"

"Wouldn't know. Don't love him."

"Right. And he doesn't love you, and you're not both making yourself miserable by pretending you're both not desperately in love with each other."

Camille pulled the covers off. "Do you not understand English? I'm not in love with Malcolm."

"Who are you trying to convince, mei mei? Me or yourself?" She smiled gently and rubbed Camille's leg.

Tears rose to Camille's eyes. Furious at herself, she grabbed her pillow and pulled it over her face. "I hate my life."

"Camille," Inara started, but then she stopped. The bed shifted again, and then the pillow was taken from Camille's face. "All right. I want you to tell me about your first time."

"I don't..."

"I want to know how wonderful it was," Inara interrupted with a soft smile. "I want to hear how excited you were, how nervous. How much you wanted him, how scared you were to take that step, but how perfect he made it for you. Tell me."

"Why? So you can go back to Mal and tell him everything's okay and it wasn't bad?"

"No. You said Mal's ruining this memory for you, and I can see how. So tell me what happened. You know I'm not going to judge, I'm not like him."

Camille sat up, swiping at her eyes with the back of her wrist. "You honestly mean to tell me that you weren't sent in by him to counsel me through this? You are trained and all."

"Mal didn't ask me to talk to you. He's too busy making sure all his weapons work. I heard about the fight and realized that you probably needed someone to talk to. As a friend."

She rolled her eyes. "There's not much to say. I mean, it was... it wasn't that different from sleeping with anyone. I was just younger and more inexperienced. Scared. I'd been here about two weeks or so. I honestly... I can't remember how long and I never look at my files because it reminds me too much of... of being sick and confused and everything. I wasn't like River when I first got here. I was pretty incoherent and stuff."

"River was, too, when she was first brought out of stasis," Inara said.

"Yeah. I've been saying how she's more powerful than I am and everything, but that doesn't always determine how hard the transition between the Academy and here is. They had a hard time helping me get anywhere near sane because when Garrison got me out, he had to leave behind most of my unit. And even thought I didn't want to go back to the Academy, I needed my unit. I needed to know they were okay, and I kept fightin', trying to escape and just get back to my unit. Garrison said that every unit commander they got out did the same thing. He always tried to get the unit out first, but it weren't always possible." She sighed and tugged on the ends of her hair.

"Anyway, they finally got me calmed down enough to get the androgen blocker out and start me on all that. And, like Mal screamed to everyone, I was scared and uncomfortable with people touching me. I wanted Garrison, I really did, but I didn't know how to tell him that. I knew he'd slept with kids before me, but I had such a crush on him." Camille smiled, cheeks warming at the memory. "He was around me all the time those first few weeks, calming me down, sparring with me, playing games. When I get really upset, I need physical activity to calm down. I've always been like that, ever since I was a kid. So he was there, and he's so cute and sexy and his eyes... when they looked at me I felt safe and cherished."

"You fell in love with him. He was your hero."

Camille nodded. "He was. And I was a kid. But I was feeling like every kid my age had felt for years, only my body was working overtime to catch up, so it felt worse. And there he was, just perfect. But I felt stupid so I didn't tell him that I wanted him. So, I tried to sleep with the Companions, and that didn't work. I mean, we'd be sitting there, drinking tea, talking all comfortable. They always went for my hair next, cause it was long and pretty and I hadn't every done anything with it since before I was a solider. And then, they tried to kiss me and I'd tense up. Finally Garrison just came in and took me to his room."

"Did he lock you in?"

"No! There are no locks here, not even on his room." Camille rolled her eyes and grabbed the pillow to hug to her chest. "Anyway. Once we were in there, it was like nothing else existed. His whole room is lined with mud from Higgins Moon, so you can't sense anyone outside, or into his room, which can be a pain It's a sanctuary, and it was just him and me. He had candles lit, and we drank coca and played chess, until I yanked the damn board away from him because he kept winning." She smiled at the memory. "He braided my hair. We read and talked about stuff. And then he kissed me and it was just perfect. Everything I'd always been waiting for. By the time we got to that point, and I was in bed with him and his hands were on me, I couldn't remember why I'd been so nervous before."

"It sounds like you weren't willing to share your body with someone you didn't truly want, at least not the first time," Inara said. "You were falling in love with Garrison. And even if it was because he'd saved you and you had a sever case of hero worship, the fact remains is he was your choice."

Camille nodded and rested her cheek on the pillow. "He was. Mal is wrong, you know. About Garrison drugging us. Maybe being experimented on would have stunted our sexual development, but not so we couldn't feel anything. Not like that. And River and Kaylee have tried having sex, but Kaylee said River ever responded. It's not just in our head. But I don't know how to prove that to Mal."

Inara took the pillow away from Camille and move closer to her. "Don't worry about proving it to Mal. Simon will take care of that part. He's doing the research right now, and he'll do the surgery tomorrow. He'll be able to convince Mal that Garrison hasn't simply been creating his own harem here." She touched Camille's cheek. "But you do need to talk to Mal about what he's doing to your precious memory. He doesn't need to hear the story. He's a jealous lover. Believe me, I know."

"Does it bother you?"

She sighed. "A little. I still love him. But it's never going to work. I'm a Companion. It's my calling, and I can't give that up for anyone. Not even someone I love. Mal won't share me, and I won't... I can't belong to anyone. I don't want to. So I know I have to let him go." Inara smiled self-deprecatingly. "When I first came back, I had the hardest time talking to Simon. I felt he'd betrayed me, even though I knew I was being stupid and unfair. But it felt personal, like he'd gone after someone who belonged to me. But, then I realized that Mal and I could never make each other happy, and that's what love is. Being with someone who makes you happy." She took Camille's hand. "You two have the possibility to make one another very happy. I can see that. You just, both, have to stop being stupid."

"I'll get right on that," Camille said wryly. Then she sighed, tugging her hair back from her face. "I don't know what happy is."

"Really?"

Camille sighed again and shook her head. "No. I mean, I guess I do. I'm mostly happy. Most of the time, really. I just... lately, nothing is going right, you know?" Her mouth crimped and tears rose to her eyes. "And what makes it worse is that I'm worried about my love life and Trinity. Trinity's dead."

"Oh, baby." Inara pulled Camille into her arms and rocked gently. Her hand smoothed down Camille's back as she cried, soft and warm and oh-so gentle.

And just not what she wanted at all. Not who she wanted.

Still, Inara was comfort and beauty and strangely like Trinity, too. Long, dark hair, and deep, fathomless eyes. A mysterious aura of maturity and protectiveness and serenity. Camille had worshiped Trinity, glowed at the fact that the other girl had ever deigned to notice her, much less count Camille as one of her best friends. And Camille had been drawn to Inara partly because of her resemblance to Trinity, whom Camille hadn't seen in over sixth long months until the night she killed herself.

"Do you want to talk about her?" Inara asked, lips brushing over Camille's temple.

Camille shook her head, digging her fingers into Inara's shoulders. "No."

"That's fine. That's fine, honey." She kissed Camille's forehead and then rested her head on top of Camille's, still massaging her back.

The door opened and Mal stuck his head in. "Camille," he said, voice faltering when he saw her in tears. He frowned, a dark shadow falling over his face. "Camille, don't ... I'm sorry."

She untangled herself from Inara. "It's not... I'm not..." She couldn't talk, couldn't stop crying.

Inara stood up and faced Mal. "She's mourning the death of her friend, Mal."

"Ah." Mal nodded and crossed the room to the bed. As he passed Inara, she took his hand, and he stopped, looking at her.

Something passed between them, but Camille didn't pry into their minds or thoughts. It wasn't her place, and she wouldn't want Inara reading into her and Mal.

Finally, Inara smiled, squeezed his hand, and let it drop. With one final glance at Camille, she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

"Camille," Mal said tentatively, sinking onto the bed next to her. He put his hand on her back, tense, like he expected her to throw him off. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Can you raise the dead?" she asked, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve.

"Well. No."

Her lower lip trembled. "Then could you just stay with me?" Her voice cracked as she asked, more tears flooding down her face.

Mal reached over and pulled her into his lap, moving so his back was resting against the wall. "Yes, darlin'. I'll stay."

* * *

By the time Simon got back to his room, it was nearly midnight. His head hurt, his eyes ached, and his back was killing him. He hadn't eaten since lunch and had completely forgotten about dinner in his quest to study up for surgery tomorrow and to see if there was even the slightest possibility that Mal had been right. 

He didn't appear to be. Simon wasn't a computer hacker by any means, but he'd seen tampered files before and the ones he'd studied didn't seem tampered with at all. Everything, even the files that had been stolen from the Alliance, showed that every kid here had an absence of hormones that promoted sexual activity. In fact, they'd been forced through puberty by a mixture of carefully selected hormones that developed their bodies while numbing their genitals.

It was sick. Disgusting. All these children, denied the chance to experience life just because the Alliance wanted to create super warriors.

With a growl, Simon threw the datapads he'd brought with him from the labs onto his desk.

"Something wrong?"

Simon turned, unsurprised to see Prophet sitting in his room. He was surprised to see that Prophet had pulled a chair to dresser and was using the mirror hanging over it to help him carefully apply mascara to his already insanely long lashes.

"I'm just cranky. And _qi fen _at the Alliance for what they did to you all." He sighed and scrubbed his eyes wearily. "As if I wasn't angry enough before."

Prophet nodded, placing the mascara on the dresser and picking up a small container. As he unscrewed the cap, he said, "I saved dinner for you. It's in the warmer." He nodded at the box in the corner of the room, next to the small cooling unit that was stocked with juices and fruit.

"Thank you." Simon crossed the room and took out the plate. "I'm surprised I was allowed to skip dinner. I thought there were rules."

"The rules aren't as stringent for the doctors. Sometimes they're in the middle of experiments or tests or something and can't be called away. Besides, tonight wasn't the norm anyway. Garrison didn't show up; he hasn't done that since Camille and he first broke up, and then again when she left. And, of course, Camille and your captain and the Companion didn't come either." He picked up a small brushed and dipped it into the container; when he swept it over his eyelid, it turned a pale, pale blue.

"What about River? Is she on the ship? I should..."

"She's next door, sleeping. I took her and Kaylee to dance class with me after everything blew up at the soccer game. I figured that she might feel better dancing than going back to the ship, especially since that's where Camille went. And it worked. She came out of that funk really quickly."

Simon smiled and opened the door, sticking his head into River and Kaylee's room. The girls were curled together under the covers, River's head resting on Kaylee's chest, Kaylee's hand tangled in River's long hair.

Softly, so he didn't wake them, Simon closed the door and turned back to Prophet, who was now working on coloring his already ruddy cheeks. "Thank you."

"No problem. I had dance class anyway. It wasn't like it was all that big of a deal." He set the blush down and picked up a dark red pencil. "If it'd been chemistry, I'd taken her there. Or martial arts, or guns, or whatever." He lined his lips carefully.

"I'd wondered where you'd went. A couple times I turned to give you something, and my constant shadow wasn't there."

Prophet's nose wrinkled. "I stay away from the medical aspects of this place as much as possible. I've had enough of blood and needles and the like. Besides. Medicine is boring."

"You really think so?" Simon pulled a chair near to Prophet and rest his plate on his knees. "Trauma surgery is one of the most exciting fields out there. Despite what my shipmates may think, it did prepare me for the world I live in now in some ways."

"I prefer things that don't breathe. Computers and stuff. But, then, my aversion to all things medical might be because I've been trained to kill people in over three thousand different ways. I wouldn't' want to put myself in a situation where I could learn more ways to do so." Done with lining his lips, he began to paint them, turning them a bright, glossy red.

Simon nodded, chewing his food thoughtfully. "Yes, I could see how that may turn you off to the field. So, computers?"

Prophet shrugged. "They talk to me, I talk to them. Even Garrison doesn't know how good I am with them, or at least he pretends not to. It's the only way I get out of here, even though I can't leave. I've got identities and lives and jobs and everything on other planets, just playing through the computer. I've amassed a huge fortune and disseminated around, invested, bought lands and property."

"Are you planning on taking over for Garrison in case anything should happen to him?"

His mouth turned down as he set the lipstick aside. "I don't let myself think like that," he said softly. He picked up some powder and began powdering his face.

Gently, Simon set his plate down and moved closer to Prophet. "But it has crossed your mind."

"Lots of things have crossed my mind, mainly centering around how I can't really trust anyone but myself and the kids here. Garrison isn't one of us. And he mostly just wants to use us."

"Do you really think that?" He took Prophet's hand and took the powder puff away.

Prophet turned to him. His eyes looked even bluer under the influence of the eyeshadow, and his already pretty features looked soft and feminine now. "Are you asking me if Garrison raped me?"

"Not necessarily, but did he?"

"I've never slept with Garrison. I told Camille I did, once, but that was just me trying to get her to get over him. But no."

"What do you think about what Mal was saying, then. About Garrison having the doctors inject you with a sexually stimulating drug and try to control you like that?"

Prophet snorted. "Please. It's not that Garrison doesn't want to help us. He does. He cares about us, everyone one of us. But he has no qualms or problems using us to continue his war against the Alliance. Not that we mind, as a rule. We're warriors. We hate them. But he's still using us."

Simon rubbed his thumb along Prophet's open thumb. "Your first time. Was it like Camille's?"

"No. God, no. I'm not as afraid of things changing as she is."

"No? I thought she was the chameleon. The best at changing who she is who fit the needs of the job, while you are the one who can't be moved to cover up his pretty face."

Prophet made a face at him. "It's true. She's fantastic at the whole make up and acting thing. It's something she can control. She makes the change and it comes from her. Things from the outside, like growing up or having the lover she was passionately in love with cut her off, she doesn't deal with things like that so well." He frowned. "When things like that happen, she changes herself, transforms, does the chameleon thing. I bet you that tomorrow morning when you see her, she'll have changed her hair and probably spend the day trying to find new clothes to go along with her new look."

Huh. Explained a lot, really. He refocused on Prophet and squeezed his hand. "So your first time didn't have anything that might hint a coercion in it."

"No. My powers were out of control and I was confused, but, mostly, I was tired of feeling so disconnected, that when Trinity... When she came into my room to check on me, see if I wanted anything, anyone, I just..."

Oh, _lao tian ye_. "Trinity was your first?"

The bright blue eyes stood out brighter, and he blinked rapidly, running a finger along the edges of his lashes. "Pretty much my only. Her and Camille. A few guys, after both of them left. But my first was Trin."

Simon sighed and glanced at the make-up on the table. "This is hers?"

"Yeah."

"Prophet..."

"Can you take me with you?" he asked suddenly, desperation making his voice hoarse. "When you leave, Camille is going to go with Serenity, take me, too."

"Why me?"

He shrugged. "Because. It's you."

Simon sighed and rested his forehead against Prophet's. "I can't make any promises. My life, for so long, has been just about River. I've put everyone on Serenity in danger by taking her on board, and I have no right to ask... ask for something for me."

Prophet's lips twitched. "Put you... you would. Do. Want to keep me."

"You're so _nao huo_. And too smart for your own good." He traced his thumb down Prophet's cheek. "Too pretty. You would torture Jayne and drive Mal insane. You'd play games with Wash until everyone would want to kick you both off, and you'd be one more mouth to feed."

"I know." Prophet sat back, still holding Simon's hand, a smug grin on his face. "But just try to live without now having lived _with_ me." He kissed Simon gently, then rose. "Don't stay up too late. You look exhausted."

"I'll just finish eating and then... wash up," he said, watching Prophet strip to his boxers and climb into Simon's bed.

"Okay." Prophet used his shirt to wipe some of the make-up off his face before lying back and pulling the covers over his head. "Night, Simon."

Simon shook his head wearily and picked up his dinner once more. "Good-night,_ tian cai_. Sleep well. _An mian_."

_qi fen_ angry_  
lao tian ye _God in heaven_  
nao huo _aggravating/annoying_  
tian cai _genius (gift)_  
An mian _sleep peacefully


	10. Chapter 10

"The next one goes right here," Dr. Douglas said, her finger hovering over a clamp that was screwed into the top of Camille's head.

Simon raised the needle to the clamp and hesitated, his hand shaking. There was sweat beading along his hairline and on his upper lip.

Far cry from the competent doc that Mal was used to. The man Mal was use to seeing in doctorly situations made Mal feel reassured that he, or whoever, would be taken care of no problem. This one made him want to rush across the exam room, take the needle out of his hand, and snatch Camille from the chair to carry her off to safety.

But, if he did, then Jayne'd figured they were attacking and take down Garrison right quick. And then Book would go after Jayne, having a better grasp on the situation and being less inclined towards smash and grab at the least provocation. Then, Wash and Inara would probably block Mal's exit, trying to convince him not to take Camille while she had needles in her head and wires attached to her chest and stuff. And Zoe, being Zoe, would guard Mal's back like normal, even if she thought he was being nuts.

Then there was River, who was already wringing Kaylee's hand anxiously. If Mal went off and tried to rescue Camille, whether she needed it or not, River would probably have another episode, and it weren't that Mal liked that Prophet kid or nothing, but whatever he'd done to River the day before had snapped her out of it right fast. The last thing Mal wanted to do was send her back to that place she'd been at, all spacey and creepifying.

"Just relax," Dr. Douglas soothed. She placed her hand on Simon's shoulder and rubbed softly. "You should be able to feel the notch in her skull; the clamp is right over it. Just remember to breathe and slid the probe right inside."

"Does the hole have to be so small?" muttered Simon.

"You want me to walk around with big holes in my head?" Camille asked. Her shoulders were somewhere around her ears and her bare feet pointed so hard her toes almost touched her heels. Her eyes were shut, breathing fast, and it was annoying because Mal could hear not only her breathing but the monitor that was beeping along with her breathing. Or maybe it was her heart, in which case, her heart was beating way to fast, and, gorrammit, Mal did not want Camille to be here going through this.

"It's in," Simon said suddenly, releasing the needle. His hands came up on either side of Camille's head, eyes wide.

Camille exhaled, her feet lowering and toes relaxing.

"See? Easy." Dr. Douglas smiled.

Mal snorted derisively, earning a poisonous look from Garrison. They glowered at one another for a moment before River turned and glared at Mal.

"You promised," she hissed. "No trouble."

Mal forced himself to look away from Garrison. "Sorry, little one. You're right. I'll be good."

River turned and looked at Garrison.

To Mal's surprise, the man nodded and said, "I will behave as well." He glanced at Mal, glowered again, then went back to pretending that he didn't exist.

Which was fine with Mal. The man weren't anything anyway, just some gorram rapist with a big pile of money he used to collect pretty toys.

"Now hook this wire to the top of the probe. Then, you finish screwing the clam into her head," Dr. Douglas coached, "and then you can move onto the next one.

Simon followed Dr. Douglas' directions, obviously more comfortable now that the first probe was in place. He touched her chin.

Camille opened her eyes.

"You all right?" asked Simon softly.

"Yeah," Camille whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mal hated seeing her like this. Vulnerable and frightened. Well, frightened more than vulnerable. Ever since he'd met her, Camille had been so brave and self-sufficient. It wasn't until the disaster at the shindig that she'd lost all that confidence, and it was makin' him crazy. This wasn't who she was, wasn't who she should be. She, like River, should be happy and confident in their genius and talents.

"Now you just do the same on this one." Dr. Douglas touched the other clamp. "You all right, Camille?"

"_Wan mei wu que_," she answered, shakily. Her eyes skittered over from Simon to Mal.

He offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile. He wanted to be encouraging, at any rate; he could see how hard it was for her to be hooked up to all the equipment. Bad enough to go through it at all, but in front of everyone had to be double hard.

The corner of Camille's mouth curved up, and some of the color returned to her face. Eyes sliding to River, Camille breathed deeply, resolved settling over her once more.

"I'm going to let River watch them test my powers," Camille had said when Mal had woken up that morning.

Mal had still been half asleep, too busy trying to remember how he'd wound up with Camille in his arms and her hair in his mouth. His reply to her statement had been, "Wha now?"

Her fingers combed through his hair before coming to a rest at the nape of his neck. "Yesterday, before everything fell apart, River was supposed to have her psychic powers tested by the doctor. She was really scared to do it, and after what you did, she's even more anxious about everything. They're going to need to test me soon, anyway. Anytime we get sedated like I was, we have to be tested to make sure we're functioning within normal boundaries." She'd frowned, chewing on her lip a moment before saying, "I'll do it first. Let Simon practice on me. Let her see that it's not like it was, there."

"What was it like there?" he couldn't help but ask.

Camille had been silent for a moment, before saying, "Ever been chased by Reavers?"

"Yeah."

"It's like that. Only they catch you. But you don't die."

There hadn't been anything to say to that. Mal had just hugged Camille closer and kissed her on the forehead.

"Will there be a notch in River's skull, too?" Simon asked, sliding the second probe into Camille's head.

"There should be," Dr. Douglas said. "All records indicate that they all were experimented on the same way."

"Thank you for not saying treated," Camille whispered, squirming in her seat.

"Camille, please try to stay still," Simon said as he slid the second probe into her head. "This is hard enough as it is."

"Oh, yeah, it's real hard for you," she said.

He sighed and hooked the wire to the sensor. "Now what?"

Dr. Douglas picked up something that looked like a girl's headband, only it was twisted with wires and had what looked like a hypodermic needle in the center of it. Only, there weren't a needle in the center of it, like there should be.

Mal didn't like the look of it.

"This goes over her forehead, and the wires hook here." She demonstrated. "And then this probe goes through the center." Dr. Douglas picked up a huge, thick needle and held it out to Simon.

"This," Simon said, voice heavy.

Oh, Mal definitely didn't like this.

"He gonna stick that in her head?" Jayne asked, using the voice he always did when he thought he was whispering.

"Don't rightly know, Jayne," Mal replied, "but seeing as the last few went in her head, I'd assumed so. And don't say whatever it is that you're thinking." He glanced over at Jayne and added, "I don't need to be a mind reader to know it ain't proper to the situation."

"What, you think I'm some kind of idjit?"

"Some kind, definitely."

"Captain," Kaylee said sharply. She slipped her arm around River, who was trembling. Then, to River, she said, "You okay, honey?"

River nodded, stepping close to her girlfriend. "They didn't put it in, they jab. Hard. Hurts. Breaks the skull and the skin and once it goes in, you're never the same, not ever."

"I don't mean to question the experts," Inara said, "but is it really necessary? You're talking about their brains. Isn't there any other way to... monitor?"

"We wish there were," Garrison said. "We tried, not wishing to duplicate the Alliance's methods."

"Then you lost the first group," River said in the spacey, creepifying voice that she could get. "Just like them."

"Yes, but the difference is we didn't torture them to death," he responded mildly.

"Just raped them."

"Malcolm!" Camille snapped at the same time Inara and Wash shouted, "Mal," and Kaylee and Zoe both said, "Captain," sharply.

"Yes." Garrison's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I raped comatose teenagers. I was just that desperate."

"Wouldn't surprise me in the least." He clenched his fists, turning to Garrison. "Ain't one of these kids I seen her ain't pretty. You only rescuing the pretty ones, or..."

"For God's sake, Mal, Camille has needles in her head!" Simon interrupted, sounding strained. "Do you want her to rip them out of her so she can beat you up?"

Mal turned to see Dr. Douglas and Simon both trying to restrain Camille in her chair.

Dammit.

"I'll stop," Mal said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Camille, don't hurt yourself."

"I'm gonna kill you," she said, settling down. "Both of you. If you can't play nice, get the hell out of here. I don't need you in here, I'm doing this for River, you don't need to be here." Her chin trembled.

Mal rubbed the back of his head as Garrison said, "I'm sorry, xin ai. I'll behave."

"I won't say nothing neither," Mal grumbled. "Just... let me stay."

Camille glared at him a moment before nodding. "Okay." She looked at Simon. "Just... put it in. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Simon asked doubtfully. He picked the probe up and looked at it. "It's going to hurt."

She hooked her ankles around Simon's legs and tugged him towards her. "Pain's part of life," she said, and it weren't right because, yeah, pain was part of life, but no one should be used to having needles stuck through their head. It wasn't natural. "Just don't jab it in," Camille added, forehead furrowing. "Besides, it has to be done. They need to figure out how strong River's powers are. River needs to see that this ain't a big deal. And it's not. Not really."

"It'd feel better about that if you weren't as white as a sheet right now," Simon said. "And if you weren't trying to tear through the arms of the chair."

Camille exhaled slowly and forced herself to relax. Unclenching her hands, she rested them in her lap. "It's just memories. Of what they did. Not here." She swallowed. "Just do it, please, Simon."

Simon nodded, eyes focused on the holder. He placed on hand on Camille's head, between the clamps; the other held the needle. Carefully, he slid it through the small hole, stopping when Camille inhaled sharply. His teeth caught his lower lips between them and he applied more pressure.

Camille's feet came up again, pointing and twisting as Simon screwed the needle through her skin.

Simon suddenly stopped, hand opened around the needle. "I think it's in."

Dr. Douglas turned on a machine and glanced at the readings. "It is. First try, too. Good job." She checked the entry, wiggling the needle a bit before nodding. "All right, Camille, you're all hooked up. Are you ready?"

Camille nodded, lowering her feet. "Yeah."

"All right." Dr. Douglas leaned into Camille and whispered in her ear.

Immediately, Camille's eyes closed, her entire body slumping in total relaxation.

Alarmed, Mal stepped forward. "What did you do?"

She straightened, a serene, placid expression on her face. "It's just simple hypnosis, Captain. Just to relax her. Every child from the Academy was hardwired with a word to get them into a state of relaxation. There, they exploited it, sending them into nightmares and the like. Here, we let their minds do whatever they want, giving them freedom while we measure their abilities."

"Camille?" he stepped up to the chair and took her hand. "Camille?"

Her head turned to him and she squeezed his hand. She didn't, however, open her eyes.

"She's asleep, Mal," Simon said. He detangled them from one another. "Please, trust me. We aren't going to hurt her."

"You better not," he said menacingly.

Simon just rolled his eyes at Mal and turned back to Dr. Douglas. "What now?" he asked.

"Now, turn on the monitors and suggest a direction for her to take."

"What do you mean?" Simon asked, turning the monitors on. Lines appeared on the screens, calm and steady, reflecting, Mal supposed, Camille's brain waves. "Suggest a direction?"

"To test her powers," Dr. Douglas clarified. "Just a nudge... oh, she's already off. See?" She pointed to the spiking lines on the monitors. "That means that, psychically speaking, she's out of her mind."

"Where is she, then?"

"Not being a psychic, I'm not sure how to explain where they go. Even they have a hard time articulating the feeling," Dr. Douglas said.

He watched as Dr. Douglas explained something about the computers and Camille, and was about to say something to Zoe when, out of nowhere, there was a hard tug on his head.

It snapped forward, almost toppling him over. Luckily, he was standing next to a desk, and he managed to catch himself, face scrunched in agony. Images started flying through his mind in a dizzying spiral, something about him on a horse, looking over some land. Camille standing next to him, looking at him like he was the world.

He was getting off the horse and putting his arms around her, and this wasn't real but Mal couldn't stop it.

"How are things at the house?" he heard himself ask, and it felt like his brain was throbbing, and it wasn't real, but he could feel her in his arms. Feel her body and smell the scent of her and, God, he was going insane.

"Good. I finished going over the profit totals. We can sell some of the surplus for a tidy profit, plus have enough left over for them that need it most. Just like you always wanted," Camille was saying in his head. It echoed, like from far away, but he could hear it, even as he could heard Simon saying, "So this means that she's reading someone else?" And Dr. Douglas answer, "Yes. They call it flying, when they expand their powers and let their minds wander."

But even with actually hearing that, outside of him, Mal would feel her in her head, feel her pressed against his body, and it was so real he could feel parts of him stirring that he would rather not stir while he was in a room filled with people.

Or about to puke.

He tried to say something, but his throat was closed. He couldn't breathe. His head spun and...

"Ah," he gasped, falling backwards as the pressure disappeared. The images stopped and the hook was gone.

Head aching, Mal straightened, eyes seeking Camille to make sure she was okay.

The girl was still asleep. No one was paying any attention to him, like nothing had happened. Maybe it hadn't. Mal couldn't quite say what...

Then he saw Prophet. The boy had moved from his position next to River and was now standing in front of Mal. His back was ramrod straight, hands out at his sides, chin tilted back.

"You all right, sir?" Zoe asked softly.

Mal nodded, heart pounding in his chest. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He rubbed his head. "Can't rightly say what happened, though." He looked at Prophet.

"She... latched onto you," Prophet whispered, voice strained. "You're sensitive."

"Huh?"

There was a sudden loud beeping from the monitors.

"What's that?" Simon pointed to a spiking line that streaked across the screen, his doctor mask of detachment slamming over him easily.

"I don't... Prophet. Prophet, stop. Dammit, you're overloading her!" Dr. Douglas said, alarmed. She pressed a button on the wall next to the monitor.

Immediately, an alarm started going off.

"Everyone out," Garrison said. "River? River, stop. Stop now." He grabbed River by the shoulders and shook her.

Another alarm went off.

"Her heart's beating too fast," Simon said, sounding abnormally calm. "What's going on?"

River had been standing in much the same attitude and posture as Prophet. When Garrison touched her, her eyes flew open.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, hands flying to her mouth. "I didn't mean... I thought I was helping."

"It's all right," Garrison assured her. "Just out. All of you."

"Hook her up to an IV," Dr. Douglas said to Simon. "Prophet and River overloaded her, like a battery. The body reacts to what the brain is going through. It's overloaded and now her body is overloading."

Simon got the IV into Camille's arms and started her on the drip. As he did, Dr. Yasbro entered, taking stock of the situation.

"Everyone out. River, Prophet, go," she said, walking briskly across the room.

"Sir," Zoe said, taking his arm, but he couldn't keep his eyes off Camille.

She was still asleep, apparently oblivious to the bustle around her. They were babbling to each other in doctor-speak. Dr. Douglas pulled one of the needles out of her head, then the other, and set them aside. Then she started unscrewing the clamps.

"We need to get her into a dark room before she overloads," Dr. Yasbro said urgently.

"Dark room?" Simon repeated.

"Sir," Zoe said more urgently. "Let them work."

"I can't... I mean, right." He allowed himself to be pulled, when suddenly, quite clearly in his head, he heard Camille shout, "Mal, don't leave me."

He didn't care if he was crazy. He didn't care if it weren't real. Mal yanked his arm away and said, "I'm staying." Resolved, he moved quickly across the room to Camille's side. "Where you taking her?" he asked.

"Dark room," Dr. Douglas said. "Prophet and River overloaded her mind with their powers; we have to get her away from all other psychics. Lift on three. One, two..."

The doctors as Camille's side lifted her from the chair and lowered her onto a gurney.

"Let's go."

Faster than Mal would have thought safe, they rushed her from the room, wheeling her through a door at the back. Mal followed, keeping Camille's hand in his. "Is she going to be all right?"

"She should be fine."

"Should be?" That wasn't encouraging. "She's still got a needle stuck through the center of her forehead."

"We are going to take it out, right?" Simon asked.

"She ain't breathing," Mal said suddenly. Camille's chest hadn't risen or fallen since she'd last exhaled.

"Ai ya," Dr. Douglas swore. She turned to a cabinet and pulled out what looked like a balloon with a mask on it. "You do it, Captain." She placed the mask over Camille's nose and mouth and took Mal's hands. "Just squeeze. Even. Open, close, regular time."

"I ain't a doctor," Mal reminded her, doing as she asked.

"I know. But keep doing it."

Mal did as she asked while Dr. Douglas, Yasbro, and Simon all did doctory stuff that Mal had no hope of understanding. He watched Camille for signs of life as he breathed for her, automatically taking in their new surroundings as he did.

It was a medical room, just like all the others, designed for both function and comfort. Only difference between this room and the rest as far as Mal could see was that there were no windows here and only one door. The walls also seemed thicker, somehow, and the air was cooler.

"All right," Dr. Yasbro said. "Let's get the sensor out and unwire her. Then we can see if we can get her breathing again."

Dr. Douglas carefully began twisting the probe out of Camille's head. "Maybe we should try waking her up. That might do it."

"Wake her up?" Mal repeated. "She ain't breathing. How's she going to wake up?"

"Same way as we put her to sleep, with a preprogrammed word. It's actually really easy to wake them up, as easy as it is to get them to sleep."

He couldn't help but snort. "Then why did it take fifteen minutes to get her to open her eyes most mornings?"

"Because she likes to fight her training," Dr. Yasbro said. "She's a solider. She's trained to come instantly awake at a touch or a noise or whatever. Camille is contrary, and fights to stay asleep, or at least pretends she's asleep, as long as possible. There we go." The probe was out; Dr. Yasbro removed the headband as Dr. Douglas set the probe aside.

"You said she wouldn't be hurt," Mal said when he saw the bloody hole the probe had been in.

Camille suddenly inhaled hard on her own, her chest rising, back arching.

"She's breathing again." Mal stilled his repetitions; Camille kept breathing.

"You can take that off, now," Dr. Douglas said. "Simon? Can you take her vitals?" She went to a cabinet and opened it. While Simon listened to Camille's heart, Dr. Douglas pulled some kind of bandages or something from the cabinet and brought them back.

"Heart rate is 95," Simon said. "Blood pressure is 119 over 78."

"It should drop to normal soon. We just have to wake her up and calm her back down."

"What are those for?" Mal asked.

Dr. Douglas ripped open the bandages. "Thank you, Tara," she said as Dr. Yasbro placed what looked like a bowl of mud on the table next to Camille. "We're going to put a mud plaster on her head, just to make sure she doesn't try and strain herself. It's safer and easier for her than giving her another sedative."

Mal shook his head. "I don't understand."

"I'm afraid I don't either," Simon said. He was taking Camille's pulse again.

"I don't know exactly what happened back there, but, basically, River, Prophet, and Camille entered in some form of three way communication while we were testing Camille's powers. For some reason, though, Camille wasn't an active participant. I don't know what Prophet and River were doing; we'll ask later. Anyway, they were active, she was passive, and they, being the stronger telepaths, overloaded her brain."

"This common?"

She shook her head in that way that sort of means no, but not always. "It's happened once or twice. Not recently." Dr. Douglas dipped a bandage in the mud, then placed it over Camille's forehead.

"She gonna be okay?"

"She'll be fine, Captain." She placed the other bandage on Camille's neck. "Tara?"

"I think we can wake her," Dr. Yasbro said with a nod.

"Let's wake her." Dr. Douglas leaned over and said, loud enough for Mal to hear this time, "Luftmensh."

Immediately, Camille opened her eyes. They found Mal's, sleepily, and she smiled. "Hey, ying jun."

Mal couldn't help but smile. "Hey, shu. You feel okay?"

"Ai hu," she said. "Except for a headache. What happened? Where is everyone?"

"You're in a dark room," Dr. Douglas said. "You were overloaded while we were testing you, and had to bring you in here."

"I don't... I don't remember." She frowned, biting her lip.

"Don't try," Dr. Yasbro said. "Don't worry. Just relax, breathe, and it'll come back to you. It's important that you don't strain yourself right now, Camille. Don't try to use your powers, don't try to think too hard."

"But I..."

"Camille."

She sighed and closed her eyes. She looked tired. "Okay."

"Good," Dr. Douglas said. "You're going to stay in here a few hours, okay? I'll bring in some books or videos to keep you entertained, but you'll need to be away from everyone until your brain calms down."

Camille nodded, then leaned her head back and sighed. "And to think, we were just trying to show River that it was easy." She squeezed Mal's hand. "Will you stay with me?"

"Of course, darlin'," he said. He bent over and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Just try and pull me away."


	11. Chapter 11

Simon fled down the hall, heart pounding. Sweat was pouring down his face, blurring his vision. Oh, God. Oh, God oh God oh God oh God.

The door bruised Simon's palms as he slammed it open. It smashed into the wall, and he heard the painting hanging on the wall fall to the ground, glass shattering.

"Simon?" he heard someone say, but he didn't pause, merely continued his flight to the bathroom.

He barely made it. He'd just gotten the toilet seat up when his body convulsed, breakfast rushing back up on him.

"Shhh," he heard Prophet's soothing voice say. "Shhh, it's okay. Calm down."

"I can't," he croaked. "Oh, God, what the hell was I thinking?" He spit into toilet and flushed. Even though his stomach was still quaking, the smell was making him feel worse.

"Drink." A glass of water was pressed into Simon's hand.

He sipped at it, stomach rebelling momentarily. Sweat breaking anew over his body, Simon leaned back over the toilet. His mouth was filled with bile again.

"Simon, you need to calm down. Camille is okay. She's..."

The image flashed again in his mind, Camille lying still and pale on the gurney, Mal breathing for her as her heart raced out of control. She'd been so close to going into cardiac arrest as the tachycardia had risen to critical levels. She could have died. Simon had almost killed her, just like the Alliance had killed countless children in the quest to create their army.

Simon lurched, stomach leaping up his throat. The top of his head felt like it was going to explode as he vomited bile and acid into the toilet. Tears leaked from his eyes, snot dripped from his nose as his body shook and tried to rid itself of its poison.

Prophet put his hand on the back of Simon's neck. It was cool against Simon's fevered flesh; his long fingers stroked Simon's neck tenderly. "You know, I thought you were a hot shot doctor. You'd think you'd be used to having patients almost give out on you."

"This is different," Simon said, flushing the toilet again. He picked up the water and took another sip. "I can't do this. This is torture."

"No it isn't."

"I stuck needles into Camille's brain!" he shouted hysterically.

Prophet raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? You do realize that the brain doesn't feel pain, right?"

"That doesn't matter! Camille was terrified, and I forced huge probes through her skull into her brain."

"Camille was terrified because of what the Alliance did to her. To us. Not you and not the doctors here."

Simon shook his head and pressed his forehead against his knees. "No. This isn't right. I almost killed her. I'm a _yao guai. An ying de sang shen. An chi wu mei. An chi wu zhi ye. An ying de sang shen_."

"Hey." Prophet grabbed Simon and shook him hard. "Stop it. And calm down, _ju nu wang_. You are not a disgrace. You do not deserve death." He touched Simon's cheek lightly. "And you're the prettiest monster I've ever seen."

"This isn't funny, Prophet." Simon pushed him away. "What the Alliance did to you was unethical and I just did the same thing!"

"No, you didn't."

"Then why did she almost die?" snapped Simon.

"Because Garrison and I majorly fucked up, that's why," Prophet shot back. He sighed, sinking down and folding his legs in front of him. Lowering his head into his hands, he said, "We fucked up. It wasn't you."

"How in God's name could it be your fault?"

Looking weary, Prophet massaged his temples. "First off, there were too many people in the room. Camille was having her powers tested and there were too many minds in there. And then, neither Camille nor I saw fit to tell Garrison that your captain is a sensitive."

"Sensitive?" Simon repeated.

"He's particularly prone to sensing psychic powers. He can feel it when he's being read, he can sense it when a psychic is dreamwalking, which I know Camille tends to do."

"Dreamwalking?"

He nodded. "It's just reading people when they're dreaming, only it's more intense because they're dreaming. Sometimes, we're sucked into the dreams, get to participate. At least, if they're a sensitive."

"I didn't know... Does that mean Mal's psychic?"

"No. No, he can't read people or anything. He's just... sensitive to when other people are reading. River. She really likes your captain, doesn't she?"

Simon nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "She bonded to Mal fairly quickly. I don't know if it was the same for him, but I could tell she was comfortable around him. Intrigued." He smiled, remembering. "She began to refer to Serenity as home and Mal as Daddy within a few weeks. It took me awhile before I realized whom she was talking about."

"Psychics feel comfortable around sensitives. They're easy to project into. If we need to, we can call to them and make our mental voices heard."

"That's why Mal stayed," Simon said slowly. He remembered Zoe pulling Mal away and how, at first, he moved to go before abruptly turning back. "Camille called to him."

"Maybe." Then Prophet shook his head and said, "Probably. She was pretty connected to him the whole time. That what's happened. How it started, I mean."

Simon folded his legs in front of himself and moved closer to Prophet "How it started?" he said, putting his hand on Prophet's knee.

Prophet looked at Simon's hand before answering "Camille latched on to your captain's brain and tried to pull something out of it. I'm not sure what, but it seemed specific. She was searching for something in there and was finding it in pieces. It was hurting your captain because she was distracted by everyone else. If it'd just been the doctors, the captain, and maybe me, it would have been okay. But the full house made it hard on him. So I stepped in and deflected her mind from his. That was it. All I did. Only River decided to help me. I didn't think ..." He stopped talking and swallowed before saying, "I didn't think to talk to her before. To tell her that... that she's so powerful. That she probably shouldn't..."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Gou shi," Prophet said harshly. "I'm ten times more powerful than Camille, it's dangerous when I try to block her powers. River's, like, a hundred times more powerful than I am. I should have said something. To her, to Garrison. I should have thought, but I didn't and we almost killed her." His chin started to tremble. "I almost lost the only person I have in this stupid universe."

Simon sighed and took Prophet's hand. "You didn't. She's alive, you didn't lose her."

"No thanks to me."

"Well, thanks to me. And doctors Douglas and Yasbro, and Captain Reynolds." He took Prophet's other hand and squeezed them both. "Despite everything, it turned out... not badly. But I don't know what to do now. I can't do that to my sister. I don't see the point."

"In order to help River get better, you need to know what her powers are like now."

"But I don't want River to be compelled to use her powers to fight in Garrison's vendetta against the Alliance. I don't want her to be in danger. I just want her to be better so we can fade away in peace."

"Okay, but her psychic powers are a part of her, and in order for her to get better, she has to learn to control them."

"How do I know that that's the truth and not just some party line you've been fed? I mean, how do I know that you're even the good guys and not some elaborate ploy to get River back under the control of the Alliance?"

Prophet sighed and shrugged. "Faith. And you have to trust River. She can read everyone's mind, you know, and people can't hide things like that."

"And I only have your word on that," Simon snapped, stomach turning. "And you only have Garrison's and the people working for him."

"I have twenty-one years of experience, Simon. No one has ever been able to lie to me. Not even Garrison. Not even my parents. Not the Alliance, either." He swallowed, face pale. "I knew they were lying when they asked me to join the program. They made it sound like a choice. I had a lot of potential, they said, and I could do great things. I wanted to do great things, right? And, yes, of course I did. Who doesn't?" His mouth thinned. "The Academy was all about my mind. Our minds. And I knew they weren't saying so much, and I could feel the horrible things they'd do in the name of progress, but I thought I could take it. Let them make me more powerful, stronger, better, and then... But I was a _ben dan_." He sniffed, looking away. "Just like always."

"You're not a fool," Simon said. He ran his thumb over Prophet's knuckles. "To be offered that kind of power is exhilarating. Flattering." He smoothed his finger up Prophet's index finger until they were flush. "They did the same to me. Came to my school. Pulled me out of class. Told me that they thought I'd make an excellent trauma surgeon and they wanted to put me in an accelerated program. They came right before..."

Prophet snorted. "Right before they took River," he said wryly. He straightened his fingers so his palm was pressed against Simon's. "We're all the children of Blue Sun, created by special vitamins and genetic engineering to create the next leaders, servants, and warriors of the supreme Alliance."

Frowning, Simon said, "Blue Sun?"

"The true power behind the government. They have their fingers in everything. And they, along with the Alliance, especially the Parliament, love trying to make a better world. All of them better worlds." He moved closer to Simon, eyes blazing. "We, all of us, you, me, Camille, River, we are all part of their great experiment to make people better. You wondered it yourself the first day. Why are there so many psychics? Why are there so many of us that came from the upper echelons of society?" Prophet smiled cynically. "The answer is easy. They chose the people who wouldn't rebel when Unification came, the people they could always keep track of and have access to."

"Did our parents know?" Simon asked, too easily convinced by the logic of what Prophet was saying and how closely it mirrored his own thoughts on the subject. Of course, Prophet might just be telling Simon what he wanted to hear, but that was the risk Simon ran.

"Yes, they knew. They agreed to it for position and money and certain advantages. And then they didn't back out. Any siblings just live off their gifts, not caring what happened to those of us who were sent to the trenches." Prophet lightly traced Simon's face, sending tingling sparks skittering over his skin. "You see why you're such a hot commodity around here."

Simon smiled lopsidedly. "No, I don't see. You're the only one hanging around nonstop. Everyone else is ignoring me."

Prophet rose to his knees, pressing close to Simon. "Well," he whispered, his breath hot on Simon's face, "I'm a jealous man, and they know better than to touch what's mine."

His lips were soft and he still tasted faintly of syrup from breakfast that morning. His hand was on the back of Simon's neck, and he held him gently as his tongue stroked Simon's upper lip, causing Simon to shiver.

"You taste like vomit," Prophet whispered into Simon's mouth.

"Yeah," he breathed, stomach quivering as he sat there, hands against his thighs, entranced and unable to move. "I could brush my teeth."

"Good idea." Prophet moved away from Simon to allow him to rise and go to the sink.

He did so as in a fog, suddenly unsure of what he was doing or why. This was crazy, absolutely insane. Simon barely knew this boy and what he did know drove him crazy.

And yet... and yet, Prophet was right last night. After two days of almost constant companionship, Simon was having a hard time thinking of life without him.

"You think too much," Prophet said, standing behind Simon. He wrapped his arms around Simon's waist and kissed his neck gently.

"So I've been told."

"You care so much for River that you don't leave anything for yourself." His hand crept up the front of Simon's shirt, bright, penetrating eyes meeting Simon's in the mirror. "Let go and give yourself this." Prophet's teeth sank into Simon's neck, biting and holding on.

The lightest of pain twisted through Simon; there was an answering throb in his groin. "This is so unfair," he sighed, head tilting back to rest against Prophet's.

"Why's that?" Prophet's breath was warm on his face. His lips brushed lightly over Simon's cheek.

"You're so beautiful. And I'm... so lost right now." He leaned forward and rinsed his mouth out. "Besides," he added, turning in Prophet's arms. "Wouldn't you rather be with someone who's a sensitive?"

Prophet's eyes were dark and intense. He leaned forward and kissed Simon, tongue insistent and probing, hands holding Simon in place as his knees went weak.

"I'd rather have you," Prophet said.

Simon groaned softly resting his forehead against Prophet's. "Am I allowed to bring up the fact that you've just lost someone very dear to you and are vulnerable right now? I feel it's the responsible thing to do."

He hesitated, pulling back. "It doesn't have to be more than just sex."

Simon raised an eyebrow. "Is that really what you feel?"

Prophet's face fell and he stepped away from Simon. "Do you have to make things complicated? Why can't you just accept what I'm offering?"

"Because that's not who I am. Because you've managed to make me feel for you as more than just a pretty boy. Because I want it to be more than just sex and I'm not used to rushing into things."

"Trinity dying doesn't matter."

"It did last night."

"It's a new day."

Simon said nothing at first. Then he reached out and took Prophet's hand. "It is a new day. But that doesn't change yesterday."

The expressive blue eyes rolled. "Look. The one thing I've learned from life is this: anything can be taken away at any moment. Anything and anyone. I've had so much taken from me. My family. My childhood, my innocence, my best friend, my life. I've learned to take happiness when I can and where I can get it. I want you. If you don't want me, that's fine. That I can accept. But using what was done to me or Trinity's death as an excuse not to be with me, that is _go shi_. So the question is, Dr. Simon Tam, do you want me?"

He didn't know what to say. As annoying as Prophet could be, he was also strangely charming. He was a good conversationalist, easily the smartest man Simon had met in years, and was by far the most beautiful that he'd ever seen in his entire life.

And Simon was only human.

He sighed and cupped Prophet's cheek. "I thought you were a mind reader."

Prophet's eyes sparkled and a wicked smile curved his beautifully full lips. "That's right," he whispered, moving in for another kiss. "I am."


	12. Chapter 12

"So, I'll just pop these new pieces into Serenity, Captain and Zoe will round up the rest of the crew, and, lickity split, we'll be back in the black," Kaylee said with forced cheer, eyes focused on the machine in front of her.

River sighed softly, swinging her feet and gazing down at Kaylee from her perch. "I'm not ready to go yet. "

Kaylee twisted the wrench violently, then tossed it into her tool box. "Don't be silly, River. This ain't the place for you." She turned; there was grease streaked across her face. "You saw what happened to Camille. Now, I know that the captain overreacts sometimes, and up 'till this mornin', I was willin' to put everythin' he was saying off to jealousy and me stuffing my foot in my mouth. But Camille almost died. I don't want that happenin' to you, baby."

"It won't. Didn't hurt Camille on purpose. It was an accident."

"One I don't want happening to you!" Kaylee exclaimed. She stood, wiping her hands on her coveralls as she walked to River. "Honey, I been scared the whole time since that Fredrick told us about that thing in Camille's head. I get that it's supposed to help ya'all, regulatin' your hormones and blood and things I don't know nothing about and could never hope to understand. But it's scary, River." She took River's hands in hers, stepping close so she was between River's legs. "I don't want to lose you."

"Don't want to be lost," replied River, smiling wryly at the irony. Ever since getting together with Kaylee, she'd been less and less lost. But she hadn't yet been found, and even though she'd never consciously realized what she'd been missing, now that she knew, she yearned for it with all her heart. She kept safe in her mind the image of Kaylee coming completely undone by River's touch.

Back then, River had felt nothing but love and pride at being able to give Kaylee so much pleasure. It hadn't bothered her in the least that River didn't feel the same sort of physical pleasure; experiencing it through Kaylee's mind had been enough.

It wasn't anymore, though. Now that River knew, she wanted it. She wanted to be as normal as she could be, like Camille and Profit and the others. They had their idiosyncrasies and their problems, but none of it was insurmountable. They could live and manage the voices in their heads and the demons of their past. River deserved that, too.

"River, maybe Captain's right. Maybe there ain't something right about this place. About Garrison."

"It's jealousy," River replied. "Captain wants to think badly of Garrison. Won't give him a chance."

Kaylee wrinkled her nose, hands tightening around River's. "But how can you be sure that's all it is? How can we be sure this ain't some set-up or somethin'?"

"Trust me." She slipped her leg between Kaylee's, and hooked it, pulling her close. "We could talk to him. Garrison."

"Why?"

"Because no one has." She pulled her hands out of Kaylee's and tugged at her hair. "Mal grunts. Simon talks to Prophet and the doctors. Jayne's Jayne. Zoe's concern is Mal and Wash. The only ones who talk to Garrison are Inara and Camille."

"And he ain't likely to listen to either one. 'specially Camille."

"Right. No one talks, no one listening." She took Kaylee's hands again. "This is my body. My choice." She frowned. "Right?"

Kaylee stroked River's hair gently, a sympathetic look on her face. "Of course it is. And I know that what you went through, like, took that away. Right? I was talking to Inara, and she said that I gotta be real, you know, gentle and stuff with you. Let you lead when we finally have sex. When you can feel, I mean."

An irrational surge of jealousy went through River at the mention of Inara. Irritated, she pushed it down, knowing that the other woman wasn't really a threat and was her friend anyway. Still, it bothered her not only to know that Inara had fantasies about Kaylee while she was locked up on her shuttle at night, but River sometimes got swept up in those fantasies when she wasn't careful.

But it wasn't Kaylee's fault. It wasn't even her fault that she still had feelings for Inara. Inara was beautiful and sensitive and wonderful. Comfortable, too. It was only natural. River didn't know anyone on the Serenity that wasn't half in love with Inara, and she included herself in that, too.

"My parents ran my life when I was a child. Then the Academy. Now, Simon does. He doesn't need to. Not any more. I have you. And I'm eighteen. He needs to live his own life, not mine. And I need to live my own life."

"But what if it's the wrong choice?"

"I just want to talk to Garrison. Come and talk to him with me. Just talk." She put her hands on either side of Kaylee's face and gazed deeply into her eyes. Her powers didn't extend to manipulating people with her mind, but that didn't mean she couldn't manipulate others should she want to.

As usual, Kaylee melted under the weight of River's gaze. Her lips pouted, and she leaned forward, resting her forehead against River's. "Okay, we'll talk to him. Both of us, together."

"Thank you." River kissed Kaylee, then slid off her perch. "Let's go."

"Now?"

River nodded and pulled Kaylee from the engine room. Now was the perfect time. Mal was still closed off in the dark room with Camille and was likely to be there for quite some time. Prophet, whether he intended it or not, was keeping Simon busy. There was no one to stop her.

"Where are you goin'?"

Except maybe Zoe.

River stared up at Zoe silently, hand in hand with Kaylee. The other woman gave away nothing, her face stoic except for a slight smile curving her lips. Her dark eyes held River's for a long moment before turning to Kaylee's. "This probably ain't the best time for you to be wandering around the base. Got a destination in mind?"

"Well, River's got the idea that maybe we should go talk to Garrison. Seems that no one ain't really set down with him, seen what he's all about."

"Really." Zoe looked back at River. "And now just is the best time, ain't it? Captain unavailable and Simon disappeared."

"He's in his room," River said defensively.

"Yes he is. The one back on base, and Wash did say something bought him being more indisposed than disappeared."

"What's wrong with him?" Kaylee asked, all concerned.

River shook her head. "Nothing. The inevitable."

"Huh?"

"Prophet's having his way with Simon."

Kaylee blushed, a grin spreading across her face.

Zoe, though, said, "Awful convenient, if you ask me."

"I'm taking advantage, not him," she said. "Prophet's just doing what he's been wanting to do since he first saw Simon. Don't build conspiracy theories; there are enough here anyway."

"Suppose so. And, you're an adult. Crew or now, I don't really have a right to stop you from talkin' to our host. Don't really see the need. I might not know if we can trust him, but I ain't jumping to any conclusions based on Mal's hormones and him being _zhu tou_. Still, he'll be right mad if I let you waltz in all alone. Might as well go with you."

It wasn't a suggestion, and River knew it. Still, there wasn't any reason for Zoe not to go with them, so she simply nodded and continued on her way.

Before they left, Zoe explained to Wash where they were going; he looked skeptically at River, but simply shrugged and wished them luck. The rest of the crew was off doing their own activities, and River felt grateful for not having to stop and justify herself to everyone she met. The few kids who were lurking in the hallways of the school, carrying books and talking academics or going to more job-oriented training, gave her looks of encouragement and mental messages of relief. It was clear from the general tone of the kids' minds that, although they envied the fact River had not only a brother, but a whole family to care from her, seeing how the crew overprotected River also reminded them of the downside of families. Not enough to stop them from yearning for theirs, of course, but enough for memories to surface.

"Think he's there?" Kaylee asked. "Maybe he's with Camille."

"His door is open," Zoe pointed out.

River cocked her head, listening.

"But do you like it here?" River heard a voice ask.

She peeked around the door silently. Garrison was sitting in front of a computer screen, bright, wet eyes locked on it. On the screen, grainy, black and white, was a young Camille. She looked to be about fourteen or so. Her hair was long and plaited neatly, and looked to be a lighter color than it was now.

"It's all right," Camille said. Sweet, high, young. "I miss home."

"Of course you do." The first voice again, not Garrison.

"I'd like to call my dad."

"What's that?" Kaylee whispered.

River swallowed, sweat breaking out over her body. "Interview," she replied. "Academy."

"Kathleen, we've discussed this before, and you know that's impossible," the main said. "He hasn't returned home from war yet, and he's asked not to be contacted until then."

Camille frowned, a furrow appearing between her eyes. "You're lying."

The man leaned forward, the back of his head almost blocking the camera. "You don't know that for certain." It was clearly a question, but Camille didn't answer. After a moment of silence, the man leaned back again. "You've been doing well in your classes, and you're excelling in your physical education activities."

Her face lit up. She bounced a few times, like she was swinging her feet under the table. "I love sports. Did you know they made me captain? I mean, my team. The kids who are in my rotation, they all agree that I'm the best athlete and I'm the one who can see, like, the field the best. Even Troy, who's three years older than I am and used to play on elite teams, agreed, however grudgingly, that I was the best _dui zhang_." Camille grinned.

"How old is she there?" Zoe asked.

River shook her head, memories of her own interrogations in front of the camera in a similar room filling her mind. "Too young to know."

"How would you like to be a true leader, Kathleen?" the man asked, leaning forward again. "How would you like to take your abilities and turn it into something more. Turn yourself into someone great so you can help humanity."

River saw Camille lick her lips and tuck her hair behind her ears. "I... I guess. You mean, like, help the people along the borders? The people being hurt by Reavers and stuff?"

The man chuckled. "Well, Kathleen, Reavers are just an urban legend, like the ghost stories from Earth-that-Was. But, yes. You can help the people along the borders. You, Kathleen O'Malley, could be a great leader and save a lot of people."

"Well, okay then." Camille smiled. "I'd like that."

Garrison froze the picture and pressed a hand to his eyes.

"Oh God," Kaylee said, louder this time, causing Garrison to stiffen and turn. "She just... she just agreed to let them do the experiments and stuff on her, huh? The solider thing."

"Yes," Garrison replied, voice graveled. His eyes met River's. "Yes, although she really didn't have much of a choice. Everyone they brought into the school for the purpose of experimentation was coerced somehow into it. Some were easier than others."

"More gullible," River said flatly. "They played on our vanities. Mine was my mind. Camille... leadership. Control." She sat in an empty chair.

Garrison nodded. "Exactly. Let each child think they were getting exactly what they always wanted."

"And never lied."

"No." He sighed and glanced back at the screen, wiping a fallen tear off his cheek. "Trinity found this on one of her last missions. It's the video sessions of every single student who went through the Academy, including the ones who are still there. I should, I suppose, be watching the most recent, to find the next person we should rescue. Or watch yours again, before..."

"Before you wear a rut in this one," River remarked.

He nodded. "I am. I can't stop watching."

Zoe found a chair and pulled it next to the desk. Sitting, she said, "You want to explain why? Cause it sounds a bit creepy to hear you're sittin' here watching a tape of a little girl signin' her life away."

Garrison just gave her a tired smile. "I imagine it does. But it helps me understand who she was before the Alliance got their hands on her. It allows me to see what I'm trying to help her be."

"She ain't never gonna be that again. She ain't a child, for one thing. That girl isn't more than twelve..."

"Fourteen," Garrison corrected. "Camille was a late bloomer."

"All right. Fourteen. Now she's, what? Nineteen almost twenty?"

"Five days."

"Anyway, you grow, you change. Plus, she's been to war. Hell and back. Didn't hear the details and I don't need to. I lived through Serenity Valley and while maybe what these kids didn't ain't exactly the same, it changes you. Changes a person. That little girl ain't never coming back," Zoe told him. "And you gotta learn to live with that."

Garrison looked away. "I see that girl in her eyes when she looks at him. I wanted to be the one who..."

"Could bring back Kathleen," River finished for him.

He nodded.

"You're still in love with her, ain't you?" Kaylee said. "She thought you weren't? She cried to us about how you didn't love her and she thought that there was something wrong with her."

"I don't mean to confuse her, I really don't. I can't stop loving her, though, even though I'm not good for her."

"Then why did you start sleepin' with her in the first place?" Zoe's voice was hard, but not accusing. "You had to have known from the start it weren't a good idea. She's too young for you."

"Try telling that to Camille," Garrison replied. "When she wants something, she doesn't stop until she gets it. I'm not sure what story Captain Reynolds concocted about Camille's first time, but it wasn't rape."

"So you say."

"It wasn't. Camille... knew exactly who she wanted from the moment she woke up. She had a crush on me. A lot of them developed a crush on my when they first were rescued out of gratitude and hero-worship, but it was different with Camille." He shrugged. "She was ready to fall in love and it was I she chose to fall in love with. And I must admit, I was more than a little enchanted with her as well. I could never be objective with her. When the androgen blocker came out, and she was ready to sleep with someone, I sent a Companion in. I thought his training and gentleness would be what Camille needed. But she wanted me."

"Why didn't she say that, then?" Kaylee asked. "I mean, wouldn't you have, you know? Slept with her if she asked?"

He nodded. "Of course. But she didn't know how. Camille was young. In some ways, she was still fourteen in her mind, and she was frightened of the changes she was going through. She was confused and scared both by what was happening and by her inability to ask for what she wanted."

"Did you know?" Zoe asked.

"I suspected. But I didn't think it was right. I knew that if I let myself, I could fall in love with her and that might not be what was best for her." Garrison smiled wryly. "I was trying not to be selfish. But, in the end, I decided it would be in Camille's best interest to... give in."

"Different from the way she tells it," River said. "She tells it like you took pity. Came and rescued her. Not sacrificed."

"I don't see it as a sacrifice. I wanted to be with her, but I was afraid. And I let myself get very deeply emotionally involved with her." He swallowed. "I miss her. But I know it's best for her that we're not together anymore."

"Did you tell her why?" Zoe asked.

Garrison frowned. "I tried. She didn't listen."

"Maybe you should try again. I think that she's trying to move on and move into a relationship with a man just as prickly and conflicted as her. It'd be easier for her to deal with it all if she didn't feel like she'd been abandoned by her first love," said Zoe. "That is, if you really want her to move on."

"Well, truth be told, I don't know if I want her to move on with him."

"Captain ain't that bad," Kaylee said. "He's a good man. He's just... overprotective when he thinks his crew is in trouble, that's all. If you got to know him..."

"It has nothing to do with whether or not he's a good man. I know he's... he's fine. It's simply that he's too old. He's closer to my age than hers, and part of the reason I broke it off is so she could find someone closer to her age."

"Well, sir, that ain't exactly your call." Zoe shrugged. "It's her life, her heart. You had every right to break it off for your reasons, but don't expect those reasons to become hers. They ain't. She and Mal work well together when they ain't both being pig headed and stubborn. If they decide to stop makin' things so hard for themselves, then you need to stop making it hard for her."

Garrison stroked his goatee, eyes far away. After a moment, he said, "I can't imagine that you came to talk to me about Camille." He reached over and shut of the computer monitor. "River?"

River shifted in her seat, tugging her skirt over her knees. "Did I hurt Camille?"

Kaylee gasped. "River, of course you didn't! Don't be silly."

She ignored her girlfriend, though, and lifted her eyes to meet Garrison's.

He was looking at her seriously, stroking his chin again. "It was unintentional, but, yes. You did."

"Didn't mean to." She pulled her legs onto the chair and hugged them to her chest. "Thought I was helping."

"I understand that. I didn't realize Captain Reynolds was a sensitive; if I'd known, I wouldn't have let him in the room." He frowned. "Truthfully, Camille shouldn't have tried to connect with him while hooked up like that. It was partially her fault."

"Wait, I don't understand," Kaylee said. She was standing behind River, fingers like claws in her shoulders. "How did River hurt Kaylee?"

"Overloaded her brain. Mines a weapon, designed to kill," River said brokenly. "Stabbed her. Stabbity, stab into the fleshly melon protected by only an eggshell. Already been penetrated by metal, just a little poke with my brain and she dies."

"No, River," Garrison said, and his voice was so calm, so soothing, she could almost melt into it. He moved forward in his chair and unwrapped her hands from her legs, taking them in hers. "Your brain is not a weapon. That's not what they were doing. They simply took your innate psychic abilities and strengthened them to help you in your missions."

Tears were filming her eyes, making Garrison look wavery. The lights flickering behind him gave him a strange halo. "Still a weapon."

"Yes. But what you did with Camille was an accident. You were trying to protect your captain from her invasion of his mind, which he needed. If she'd kept trying to connect with him and failed, it would have happened anything. You simply sped things up a bit and let the rest of the know of the problem."

"I don't understand," Zoe said. "Mal's a good man, but sensitive?"

Garrison smiled. "It's as close to a technical terms as we can get in so shaky a science as this. All I mean is Mal is particularly sensitive to psychics. Something about his mind makes it easy for him to sense with a psychic is reading his mind, ground someone with psychic powers, and, if trained, communicate mentally with a psychic."

"And Mal can do all that?"

"Yes, if trained properly. As it is now, he just servers as someone River and Camille can connect with," Garrison answered. "It's actually lucky for River that Captain Reynolds is a sensitive; even if she wasn't consciously calling out to him, his presence probably helped her make the transition back to normal life."

"Soothing," River said. Then she smiled crookedly and shrugged. "When he's not having nightmares or thinking about how everything is going to go wrong."

"What Camille was doing while we were testing her," Garrison continued, "was draw a specific memory from Captain Reynolds's mind. He needs to be trained, or at least be aware of what that is for it to work. When he sensed her in his mind, he fought her, tried to block her out." Garrison turned back to the computer and turned it on. Typing a command brought up the video of that morning. "Watch him." He pointed to Mal, who was scowling at the doctors.

Camille went under, breathing evenly.

"Right here."

Just as Garrison said the words, Mal suddenly jerked forward, hand going to his head. His face was screwed in pain and he looked as if he were physically trying to pull away from something.

"That's Camille in his mind?" Zoe asked.

"Yes. They struggled for a minute or two and then you'll see Prophet step in and block her mind from his. Ah, there he goes."

On the screen, Prophet stepped in front of Mal. The effect was immediate, and Mal, now out of pain, he looked bewildered.

"What's he doin'?" said Kaylee.

"He's creating a sort of shield around Captain Reynolds's mind so Camille couldn't get in. Since he's the strong psychic, it's easy for him to do. And here is when River joins in." He pointed to River. "However, since she's untrained and much stronger than Camille, she ended up creating something like a feedback loop and started pumping her own psychic energy into Camille's mind. It was too much for Camille. The sensors," he continued, turning off the screen and turning back to the group, "are designed to gather psychic energy so we can measure it. When they get overloaded, they get superhot and can even start to melt, which, with River's added power, they started to do. The physical symptoms--the tachycardia and the shut down of her lungs--were a response to her brain not being able to handle the extra stimulation."

"But she's gonna be okay, right?" Kaylee said worriedly. "I mean, she ain't gonna die."

Garrison shook his head. "She's not going to die. When her brain has cooled down and settled, we'll take her out of the darkroom and do a few tests, just to make sure, but this isn't entirely uncommon. It's happened before, accidentally, and we've managed to settle it so the kids aren't harmed overmuch."

"Overmuch?" Zoe said flatly.

"Sometimes there's a slight loss of their psychic powers or even physical symptoms that linger. Minor, like respiratory problems or chronic headaches, and we can deal with them, but the problems are there. An inherent risk in trying to help anyone who has been experimented on."

"Talk about that awful casual," said Zoe. "Just how did you get involved in all this anyway?"

He looked at her evenly, an unreadable expression on his face. "I was one of the first groups experimented on so they could discover how psychic ability works."

"You went to the Academy?" Kaylee gasped. "I thought they just took kids."

"Well, I wasn't exactly at the same place the kids were. This was back when I was a teenager, many years ago."

Zoe frowned, eyes widening. "It's been goin' on that long?"

"River and all these kids are the culmination of years of experimentation and research. In the early days, the just took anyone with a high IQ or who seemed to know things they otherwise shouldn't. I was one of them, although after much testing they realized I wasn't anything but a little sensitive to other's psychic powers. They kept me there for about ten years, trying to turn me into a psychic and using me to help ground the psychics they did fine." He frowned, rubbing his chin. "I saw so many kids die from what they did. It was horrible." Garrison sighed, eyes closing. "I was thirteen when they took me, twenty-three when they sent me to a military academy. When Unification came along, I knew there was more involved than a desire to protect the planets on the rim. The Alliance was so keen on controlling people, I knew they had to be looking for a wider field."

"More experimentation ground," River said. She frowned, a shiver going through her, bile rising. "Miranda."

Garrison looked at her sharply. "What's Miranda? River?"

She could feel her mind cracking, splintering in an effort to protect herself from something so horrible, so devastating, that it made her sick to think about it. "Don't know. Don't care. They all... I can't... I..."

"Shhh, baby, shhh," Kaylee said, kneeling at River's feet. "River, it's okay, honey."

"What do you mean," said Zoe as Kaylee worked on calming River down, "the Alliance wants to control people. Ain't that what governments do?"

"To some extent, yes," Garrison replied. "But the Alliance takes it a little to far. They put additives in the food and water to try and enhance our bodies and bolster the immune system. They genetically engineered these kids from birth, from before birth, to create a race of perfect soldiers and assassins. I've heard rumors that they experimented on an entire planet." He glanced at River. "I don't know the name of the planet or what the results were. I was already out in the field by that point, spying against the so-called insurgents. I was a double-agent, passing on information to the Browncoats. That wasn't information I could find out about."

"Sounds like you have just as much reason to hate the Alliance as any of us," Zoe remarked thoughtfully.

He snorted and took River's hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. "I do." He looked up at Zoe. "I would never hurt any of these kids. I would never take advantage of them. Yes, they fight for me against the Alliance, but they fight for themselves, too. Their choice. If River doesn't want to, she doesn't have to." Garrison looked back at River, catching her eyes with his. "I only want to help you find some semblance of peace. I can't make you who you were before going to the Academy, but I can help you experience the world without confusion again. If you allow me."

River met his cool blue eyes, feeling as if they were the only things that were keeping him from drowning. "I want you to fix me. But I have to tell Simon. So he doesn't get mad."

Garrison nodded and squeezed her hand. "I'll schedule the surgery for tomorrow. We'll get your monitor in and the blocker out first thing in the morning." He looked up at Zoe. "Whether Captain Reynolds agrees or not."

"Don't worry about that," Zoe told him. "I understand your motives now. I'll make sure he understands as well. He won't stand in the way." She put her hand on River's shoulder and squeezed. "We'll get you better, River. Don't fret."

She sighed and closed her eyes, wishing she didn't feel so lost. "I'll try not to."


	13. Chapter 13

_"What are you doing, Trin?" Camille asked, when Trinity simply stared at her, blank-eyed._

_"Going back."_

_"Back?"_

_She nodded woodenly. "They got me."_

_"They..." It clicked. "No. How?"_

_"They almost got you." Trinity raised her hand and touched the monitor at the base of her skull. Then she pointed to Camille's arm._

_She looked down. Her entire armed was bandaged and throbbing, blood seeping through the gauze. "That thing. They shot me with some kind of..."_

_"Computer chip. It crawls under the skin until it finds the monitor. Then it locks on and activates our program. Since we're malfunctioning, we head back to them by any means necessary."_

_"So you killed everyone."_

_  
Trinity nodded. "They're trying to access the mainframe back at base, too. Use me to get back to everyone." Trinity inhaled deeply and lifted the gun. "I can't let that happen."_

_Alarmed, Camille stepped forward. "Trin, what are you going to do?"_

_"What I have to do." She met Camille's eyes. "Tell Prophet I'm sorry. Tell him I love him."_

_"Trinity, no. Trin..." Feeling like the air was made of soup, Camille struggled forward, trying to get to her. "Don't."_

_  
"I love you too, Camille." She placed the gun at the base of her neck. Squeezed._

"No!" Camille gasped, bolting upright. She could hear a frantic beeping behind her and sweat plastering her clothes to her.

"Hey, hey, shhh," Mal soothed, immediately at her side. He climbed on the bed next to her and took her into his arms, stroking her hair softly. "It's okay. It's okay."

"Shit," Camille swore. She lifted a trembling hand to her eyes, wiping away tears. "Shit, fuck, shit."

"Calm down. You're safe, darlin'. I've got you."

"But who has you?" The words slipped out before Camille could stop them, without any permission or every conscious thought on her part. The room, designed to block out the minds of everyone else in the school, had focused hers on Mal's; at some point, the mud wrap had fallen from her forehead and her powers, though somewhat numb, had awakened and sought out the most comforting presence they would find.

A laugh sounded gruffly in Mal's throat, and his lips pressed against the top of her head. "Well, I don't know. I guess that'd be you."

Startled, she tipped her head back. Mal was looking down at her, eyes serious and dark, face intense.

"That's it?" she said. "After everything, that's it?"

"You want poetry? Flowers?" he asked. "Cause, I gotta tell you, I ain't good at any of it."

"No, that's not... Do you forgive as easily as you condemn as a rule?"

Mal shook his head, smiling. "Not as a rule, no. When I have motivation, then yes." He cupped her cheek. "But I may not have been condemning as..."

"Stupid?"

"Not stupid. _Ben_," Mal corrected.

Camille smiled, leaning into his caress. "Same thing." She turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand. "I'm sorry I lied to you. But I never used you."

Mal sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind Camille's ear. "No, I don't suppose you did. Least not the way I accused you of. You did use Simon somethin' bad, though."

"Yeah," she admitted, face hot. She rubbed the back of her hand over her forehead, mud flaking off as she did. "I did, didn't I?" She frowned. "Do you think he's angry?"

"Not Simon, no. He's all understandin'. I doubt he remembers you jumping him, anyway, what with worry about his sister and that pesky boy."

"Prophet? Yeah, you thought I was bad, just wait. Prophet won't settle until he's got Simon naked in his bed."

"Tamande," Mal swore, jaw clenching. "What is it with you people and your need to go after my crew? Who's next? Book and Jayne are the only ones left, 'sides Inara, and we all know she ain't no good for any more than a favor to you people. Already lost a mechanic to one, now I gotta lost a doctor too?"

Camille rolled her eyes. "What's your problem with shipboard romances, anyway? Is Kaylee's productivity going down because she's with River or something?"

"Well, no," he admitted. "But you gotta admit, they sure can muck up the works. Just look at Zoe and Wash."

"Oh, yeah, woman gets married and suddenly, she's useless?" She cocked her head. "Have you told her that?"

"You think I have a death wish?" Mal sighed and pulled away from her, scrubbing his hand over his face. "I like things simple."

"I ain't simple."

"We're not talking about you."

"Yes, we are, Mal." Despite her resolve not to get overly emotional, her lower lip was trembling. "I mean, I know you want me, but I'm not going to do anything but make your life more complicated. And I'd rather... this not start, really start, if it ain't going to go... anywhere."

Mal said nothing for a long moment, and the tears flooded to her eyes because her brain hurt so much and she was so tired of wanting and not getting and...

"Oh, stop it," Mal sighed. He pulled her back to him and kissed her. Properly, mouth open, tongue stroking hers, hands massaging her back and shoulders until her muscles were warm, relaxed, and singing with arousal. "As far as I'm concerned, this here is a done deal. Except for the doin', of course, which we ain't yet got to." He placed a trail of soft kisses across her cheek until he came to her ear. As he tugged on it gently with his teeth, one hand came around to the front of her surgical gown to cup her breast.

A lazy heat spread through her body. Sighing softly, Camille moved closer to Mal, climbing into his lap. As she sought his mouth once more, she undid the fastenings of his shirt, wanting to feel his body against hers again and...

"Camille, it's a dark room, not an unmonitored one, sweetie," Dr. Yasbro said, coming inside.

Mal growled something against her neck, hands tightening.

"Owe, Malcolm," Camille gasped. "Play gently." She pushed his hand off her breast and caught it in hers. "Sorry, Dr. Yasbro," she said, turning.

The doctor shrugged. "I don't mind, I just thought that perhaps the captain would."

"Damn right." He pulled his hands away and slid off the bed. "I ain't putting on a show for no one. 'Specially not one that's like to get me killed."

"Garrison ain't gonna kill you," Camille said, rolling her eyes. She turned to the doctor as she scratched at the flaking mud on her forehead again. "How long have I been in here?"

"About three hours," Dr. Yasbro said. She slipped an oxygen reader onto Camille's index finger, then picked up a blood pressure cuff. "You gave us all a good scare there, sweetheart."

Camille licked her lips and tried not to look away. Guilt made her stomach tight. "I'm sorry," she said softly, twirling her feet at the ankles slowly.

"You ain't got nothing to be sorry 'bout," Mal said angrily. "They're the ones who almost killed you."

Dr. Yasbro didn't rise to the barb. She merely smiled wryly at Camille. The image of Mal holding a gun to Dr. Douglas flashed through her mind, which made Camille smile back.

"How's River?" Camille asked.

"Fine. She handled the emergency well, without retreating, which is promising," Dr. Yasbro said. "I'm not sure if anyone's explained to her what went wrong and why, though; Prophet disappeared quickly and River was taken back to the ship."

Mal came up behind Camille, hands on his shoulders. "What needs to be explained?"

"Mal, that doesn't usually happen," Camille said, leaning against him. "You'll see when they test me later. I'll be fine."

"Ain't gonna happen. No way in hell are you going to have those needles stuck in your head every again." His arms came around her waist possessively.

Camille rolled her eyes and gave Dr. Yasbro a look. It was returned, and then Dr. Yasbro turned away and began recording Camille's vitals.

Carefully, so as not to undo any of the monitors on her, Camille turned in Mal's arms. "Mal," she said, rising to her knees. She kissed him, savoring the feel of his lips against hers, the way he smelled, his warmth. She wanted to drown in him, submerge herself in his essence. But first... "I know you're used to being obeyed by your crew and all, and that you don't understand the necessity of a lot of this, but it is necessary." She kissed him again, and added, "And if you think I'm going to obey you, then you're crazier than I ever was."

"You want to be part of my crew?" Mal said. "Then you obey."

Her lips twitched. "We ain't talking about the same thing, and you know it, Malcolm. If it's an order, if it's ship's business, then, yeah, I'll try to obey. I'll probably fight you a bit, but I was programmed to be in charge, not follow. But I'll obey. But this here? This ain't ship's business."

He made a face. "I don't like it."

"I know. But it won't happen again, you'll see. They'll measure my powers and I won't even blink. Well," she corrected. "Blink, maybe. Almost die, no."

"And maybe," Dr. Yasbro said, coming back over, "this time you'll manage to do it without attacking the captain." She took the oxygen reader from Camille's finger, and turned her back around.

Camille felt her face heat. "There were too many people in the room," she mumbled. I wasn't attacking him."

"What?"

She tilted her head back to look at Mal. "When I was sleeping, I started fishing around in your mind. The sheer amount of mental energy in the room sort of displaced my attention, though, so when I went in, I wasn't as focused as I should have been. You kind of fought me, and I was pulling too hard at the memory, and it came out all wrong."

Mal frowned. "I remember hearing your voice. Something about a house and profit totals and some such?"

Her face was burning. "Yeah. That'd be the one." She licked her lips nervously and said, "First night I was on Serenity, you had a dream we was married and living on a ranch. I sorta dreamwalked into it, and... I liked it enough all right. I needed comfort, and tried to pull it up again. I shouldn't have."

"I what?"

"Camille?" Dr. Yasbro interrupted. "Your vitals are stable and as long as you feel up to it, you're fine to leave the room. I recommend, though, that you try to stay alone as much as possible. Either go to one of the shielded rooms until tomorrow, stay outside, or go to Serenity."

She nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

Dr. Yasbro smiled and touched her cheek gently before leaving the room.

Camille slid off the bed and retreated across the room, needing physical distance from Mal for reasons she couldn't begin to articulate. "The first night," she said, hugging her body tightly, "I wanted to get a sense of the crew. I'd passed out so quickly after arriving, and although I was fairly certain no one would hurt me--you had River, after all--I still was curious. So I let my mind sort of wander around. Since y'all were asleep, I was able to see your dreams. I love to dreamwalk," she confessed. "People have such interesting dreams and, sometimes, you can tell a lot about someone from what they dream."

"And I was dreamin' about you," Mal said, not incredulous as much as curious. Maybe a bit embarrassed.

"I don't ... know if you were, originally," she answered. She couldn't look at him. "You were dreaming about being on a horse and looking at a house. But you sensed me in your head and drew me in."

"How would I be able to do that?" He moved around the table, closer to Camille.

She stepped further away, pressing her back against the wall. "You have some very slight, very small, semblance of psychic powers. You're not a proper psychic, but your brain is attuned to us." / You can hear me, can't you/

Even with her eyes lowered, Camille could see Mal start in surprise. "Yeah. Ain't that normal?"

"No. I could do the same with Book or Jayne, and they'd never hear it. Never feel it. Simon and Inara are both moderately sensitive, but nothing like you. You're real intuitive. Real easy to get in and out of, and you feel it. You talk back without realizing it." Camille felt her throat tightening. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Mal put his hands on her shoulders; when she stiffened, he only held tighter, not letting her go. "Did you do this to me?"

"No."

"Then it ain't your fault."

Camille looked up at him, surprised. "You mean, you're not mad because I've been walking through your head without you knowing?"

"I ain't exactly thrilled, no. But as long as you ain't been controlling me, then I guess I won't complain. Much." He traced a finger down her face. "You can call me when you're in trouble, right?"

/I can call you even when I'm not/ she replied.

He smiled and lowered his head towards hers. "Then you do that, ya hear? Before you're busted up and bleeding, if possible." Arms sliding around her, Mal lifted her and pressed her against the wall before kissing her again.

/Yeah/ she replied, wrapping her legs around him and kissing back. /I'll do that./


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Someone sent me a PM awhile ago and dropped this scene in my head. I was going in a different direction, but was so blocked, I finally started considering what they said. The problem is, I accidentally deleted the message before I could A. thank them and B. warn them I was going with their idea. So, please know that the bunny was a gift from someone and I would love that someone to remind me who they are so I can thank them properly. Thanks!_

_

* * *

_

"Good morning," Prophet whispered when Simon stretched, limbs tingling as blood returned to them.

Ah, yes. Prophet. Images of the previous afternoon--night? God, what time was it--flooded Simon's mind. Prophet, face twisted in passion, sweat making his face shine. That wide, sensuous mouth reddened with kisses, open as he cried out. As Simon made him cry out.

And those fingers. Those long, artists fingers stroking down the length of Simon's spine, exploring his body, seeking every soft, secret spot guaranteed to reduce him to a quivering pile of nerves.

"Morning," he replied. His eyes opened, a mouth taking his, fingers tight in Simon's hair. "Is it morning?" It really didn't seem as if he'd slept that long. And Mal definitely would have sent someone to look after him had he.

Prophet's eyes were insanely bright. After a moment, Simon realized that he was again wearing eyeliner. He hoped wasn't a portend.

"It's late afternoon. But my rule is, an time you wake up, it's morning again."

"Mmm. I'm not sure if I can agree. When I worked as a trauma surgeon I lived off cat naps. I woke sometimes five, six times a shift. If I went by your standards, I'd have shaved years off my life. I'd be ancient."

That got him a smile so beautiful, Simon simply had to kiss him.

"Well, you are pretty old," Prophet said against Simon's mouth. He slid on top of Simon. The sheets pooled at his hips. "Definitely too serious."

"Too serious?"

Prophet cocked an eyebrow.

His face heated. "I have a lot of responsibility," Simon said.

"I'm not saying you don't. But I should have been able to get you into bed at least two days ago, if not yesterday. It took way too long."

"My sister..."

"Look at me!" Prophet preened. "I'm gorgeous!"

He laughed. "I've only known you, what, four days?"

"More than enough time." He threaded his fingers into Simon's hair. "No matter, though. You're here now. You're mine now."

More frightening words were never spoken.

He wrapped his arms around Prophet and pulled him down. Prophet was easily guided, mouth warm and eager. His feet hooked around Simon's calves in a way that reminded him of Camille. This was infinitely more possessive, though. Even while trying to seduce him, Camille had never seemed this sexual, either. Prophet, though, breathed like sex.

"So," Simon had to ask when they broke apart, "when you mean mine..."

"I mean mine." Prophet cocked his head. "I don't share. I've already forced to share too much."

"I see," he murmured, not sure if he liked the implications all that much.

Prophet groaned. His head dropped to Simon's chest. "This is what I mean by too serious, by the way."

He ran his hand down Prophet's back. "So you're joking?" Somehow, he didn't think so.

"Of course." Blue eyes looked back up at him. "How am I supposed to keep track who you sleep with once you leave? I can only read your mind if you're right here. And you'll be long gone by then."

Simon raised his eyebrow. "Just yesterday you asked me to take you with us. Has something changed?"

"The mystery is gone, baby," Prophet leered. "Why go with the cow when you've already tasted the milk?"

"Because you love the cow?" he said before he though.

Prophet blinked. "You're certainly more romantic than I thought you would be."

He blushed. "I meant you love the milk. The taste. The..."

Mercifully, Prophet stopped his babbling with a heated kiss. It was like the boy could read his mind.

There was a knock on the door.

Simon tried to pull his mouth away from Prophet's, but the boy refused to be budged.

The door opened. "Simon?" Inara said, entering. "I... oh, I'm sorry." She was surprised, not shocked nor embarrassed. "I'll go."

He shoved his annoyingly persistent lover off him. "Is something wrong?" he asked, sitting upright. He was embarrassed, some, but then, this was Inara, not Jayne or Zoe or Kaylee. To Inara, this was life.

Prophet pulled a pillow to his chest, lower lip sticking out. "That's what I meant. Too serious."

Inara had already turned to leave, but she turned back. Now that he looked closely, Simon could see she was amused. Even delighted.

He wasn't grateful.

"Nothing's wrong," she assured him. Then her forehead wrinkled. "At least, I don't think. When I went back to the ship only to find everyone gone."

Simon's heart lurched. "Where's River?" He reached for his slacks; there'd been thrown carelessly onto the floor by Prophet. He reached for them while trying to keep the sheet around his hips; Prophet, of course, was attempting to pull the sheet away.

"I don't know. I thought I'd find her on Serenity. Supper isn't for another hour."

"And no one was there?" He almost snagged them with his finger tips. Prophet, though, squeezed his ass. He almost fell from the bed.

"The Shepherd had returned to fetch a book. He didn't know where anyone was, either." Her eyes turned to Prophet.

Simon turned as well.

Prophet's eyes went heavenward. "I'm not a tracking system you know."

Simon had to bite his lower lip to keep back the sigh. It was harder to keep the thoughts at bay; his new lover's ego was so fragile that even the wrong thought might cause him to snap.

"Prophet," he said, putting his hand on Prophet's stomach.

"We're all safe here, you know. And your sister is eighteen. She's an adult."

"Yes, but..."

"And it's not like she's completely insane. She was smart enough to snap up that cute mechanic while you sat on your ass and didn't do anything!"

Inara stepped further into the room. "But, Prophet, please understand..."

"Why can't you understand?" Prophet shot up, dropping the pillow. "You treat her like a fragile child and that's what she becomes! Garrison did the same thing to Camille and almost fucking ruined her."

"We're not her lover," Inara pointed out.

"No," Prophet sneered. "You're her family." He fell back to the bed and rolled over. The pillow was snatched up again and settled firmly over his head. The blanket went over him next until all Simon had was a Prophet sized lump next to him.

Inara gave Simon a pitying look.

"I heard that!"

Simon rolled his eyes. "Prophet, I'm sorry. I know I baby my sister, but I can't help worrying. She's..."

"I'm right here." River stuck her head into Simon's room. Her eyes danced at him.

Simon's face burned. "Where have you been?"

"Talking. Where have you been?"

Inara put her hand on River's shoulder. "Honey..."

"You did it!" Kaylee exclaimed, popping into the room. She clapped her hands looking at the rumpled bed. "I was hopin' you two would get together.

The thought, "Where's not together," flashed through Simon's mind too quickly to stop it.

Next to him, Prophet stiffened.

Go se.

Simon tugged the blanket off Prophet's head, his attention focused solely on him. "I'm sorry," he said softly. He rubbed Prophet's back. "I'm embarrassed and uncomfortable and defensive." Saying the words felt awkward and stupid, but he remembered what Prophet had said about honesty. "I'm not denying the possibility of us." He eased Prophet onto his back.

He just shrugged, eyes looking sightlessly past Simon. "I can hardly hold something you think against you. They drill that into our heads constantly."

"Yes, Kaylee, we finally took that step," he said. He bent over Prophet and kissed him softly. "Or, rather, I finally stopped denying what I wanted and took that step."

Prophet relax, eyes returning from infinity to Simon's face.

"Does the captain know about this?"

Ah, wonderful. Zoe was here.

_Party in Simon's room_, he thought dourly. _Never mind the nudity._

That got a grin out of the psychics in the room.

"I didn't realize I had to ask the captain permission to take a lover." His eyebrow quirked. "He certainly never bothered to ask me."

Zoe was impassive as always, but Simon could see the laughter in her eyes as she leaned against the wall. "Well," she started, but was quickly interrupted by Mal's voice saying, "That might have something with me being captain and you being the doc, Doc."

He squeezed past Kaylee and Inara who were still standing in the doorway. Camille was pushed through in front of him, his hands firmly on her shoulders.

"I don't ask permission from no one," Mal finished, lips quirking at him.

Simon smirked back. "You sure about that?" he asked, very deliberately looking at Camille.

"Now, now boys," Camille said, talking right over whatever Mal's reply was going to be. "No fighting, no taunting, no teasing." At teasing, she looked at Prophet, eyes lingering on his bare and bite-marked chest. She sighed, face scrunching. "Yeah, no teasing. We'll just pretend that Mal is in charge and leave it at that."

Mal snorted. "Thank you, darlin'." He kissed her on the cheek and squeezed her shoulder hard enough that she squirmed a step away

Simon's stomach plummeted. He had no right, no cause to be upset. He was over Mal, and this had been a long time coming between them. Ever since Camille had come aboard, it'd been there and growing. Hell, he'd encouraged the relationship in ways. He'd...

He had no right to be upset.

Prophet slipped his hand underneath the sheet.

Simon caught it before it went anywhere too distracting. "Are you all right, Camille? I've been so worried." Holding Prophet's hand away from him, he leaned over again and reached for his pants.

"Oh, I can tell. You was _real_ worried."

"I was," he protested. He sat up and looked at her. "I know... I allowed myself to be distracted, but..." He stopped at the look on her face. "You're teasing me."

"Dang ran." She beamed at him. "I know how persuasive Prophet can be, especially when you're vulnerable."

"I wasn't..." But it was a useless denial. "Are you all right?"

"I am." Her features softened. "I'm sorry to have scared you like that. It was my fault, as I'm sure Prophet told you."

He looked at Mal and said, "He did a little."

Camille turned to River and took her hand. "I'm sorry, River."

"Wasn't your fault." River gave her a shadow of a smile.

"It wasn't yours either. You were thrown into something that we didn't explain and you did your best to help. It's our fault."

"The doctors," River said.

"The enemy," said Prophet. "It's always their fault."

Camille rolled her eyes. "Never, ever listen to Prophet."

River laughed. "Got that myself." She reached up and touched Camille's temple. "Still hurts."

"Yeah." She winced. "It does. Nothing's perfect, but it's better than the alternative." She touched River's head.

She nodded. "I know." She took a deep breath and glanced at Simon, who was trying for his pants again. "I'm getting my monitor tomorrow."

Simon fell out of bed.

"Oh!" Kaylee gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth as River's hands went to her eyes.

"That's right." Prophet, voice smug, leaned over the bed and looked at Simon. "I am a lucky, lucky man."

Simon's entire body felt as if it was on fire. There were four sets of female eyes and two sets of male on his body and all looked as if they liked what they saw. And none looked like they were inclined to look away, either.

He snagged his pants and struggled into them. "What do you mean, River?"

Her eyes still covered, River said, "I'm getting a monitor. I decided. And they'll take the blocker out. So I can have sex. And be a real girl again."

"No." Two men spoke with one voice.

Before Simon could say anything, Mal said, "You ain't having nothing done River."

Kaylee left the doorway and took River's hand. "We all went and talked to Garrison. Me and Zoe and her. And what he said made real sense, Cap'n. What he said about why he's doing it and all. And things about Camille that, you gave him a chance to explain, sound real reasonable. You just need to talk t ohim."

"I'm through talkin' to that hun dan. And I don't need to talk to him to know I don't trust him."

"But you do need to talk to him to see if he be trusted," Prophet said in a mild tone.

"You'd do good to listen what he has to say," said Zoe. "But, act is, it's River's choice."

"We on that old argument again?" Mal said, turning to his first mate.

_Oh, bad idea_, Simon thought as Zoe's eyes sparked.

She pushed off from the wall. "You got a problem with what happens to her body bein' her choice, Captain?"

Prophet laughed under his breath.

"You're not helping," Simon whispered.

"No, of course not," Mal said. "I just... don't trust Garrison."

"I do," River said.

He turned to her. "You saw what happened!"

"Serenity falls apart all the time," River shot back. "Your plans never work out. Simon follows. He gets to choose. Zoe follows. Camille chooses."

"But she..."

"She didn't get to choose this. Monitor was put in before she knew. Wasn't settled yet. Crazy." River stepped forward, face set. "I'm settled, but not whole. I want to be whole, and I won't let you stop me." She turned to Simon, eyes filled with tears. "Please, Simon. I need you to understand."

He shook his head, feeling helpless. "River, I can't. I can't do it. Not after what happened with Camille."

"It won't happen. You won't do it."

"Of course he won't do it, because it ain't gonna happen."

Camille turned to Mal. "It's not your choice, Malcolm," she said softly. One hand went to his neck, the other on his arm.

"But..."

"Let them be."

He scowled but said nothing.

"Simon, you watch. Make sure. But let the experts do it." She licked her lips. "We're running out of time."

He blinked, insides twisting. "I don't... are you getting sick? Is it hurting you? River." Simon crossed the room and took her in his arms.

River rested her head against his chest. Her fingers dug into his bare arm. "Not me. Pressure from without. They might be coming. We need to move."

"Garrison gonna call a scatter?" asked Prophet.

"Thinking. Not sure. Still monitoring. Wants to fix me first."

Simon kissed her head. "I'm frightened, mei mei."

"Me too. It's my brain."

"You're my sister." _You're all I have_, he finished silently.

River's arms tightened around him.

"Oh... my," Kaylee gasped suddenly.

"Wo de tian ah," Mal swore.

Simon lifted his head from River's and opened his eyes. He was unsurprised to see Prophet, in all his gorgeous glory, next to him. "You know," Prophet said, "there are sixty-seven of us here. One of us is a vegetable. No one has died in the initial surgery for over four years. The odds are in her favor."

"I know the statistics." He sighed. "And, you are right. River is an adult." The words were painful. To cover, he kissed River on the forehead and let her go. "I'm not going to stop worrying about you." Simon took Prophet's hand.

River glared at him. "You better not. You're my brother." She took a step away from them and took Kaylee's hand.

Kaylee kissed her.

"I don't like this," Mal said. "I just wanna go on record and all, say I was against it."

"Duly noted, Captain," Simon replied. "I won't complain to you should anthing happen."

River turned to him. "You don't have to like it."

Mal opened his mouth again, but was interrupted by Jayne sticking his head in and saying, "Hey, them kids is putting together some... Hey, there's a nekkid guy in here."

"So perceptive," Prophet said drolly.

"Jayne," Mal started, but Jayne kept talking.

"Ah, man, why couldn't it be you who was nekkid? Ain't your room next door?" he asked Camille. "I mean, I been opening doors all day. Not one of you girls been nothing but fully dressed."

"We're mind readers, Jayne," Camille laughed "We know when you're coming."

"Then why's he nekkid?"

"Because Prophet's an exhibitionist." She smiled at Jayne, but Simon could see her heart wasn't in it. In fact, her face was turning pale and she was leaning against hard against Mal.

"Camille?" Simon said.

"Get out of here, chi," Prophet interrupted. He sounded angry. "You should still be in the dark room."

"I'm fine," she protested. "Just tired." A drop of blood rolled from her nose.

Inara took Camille's wrist. "Captain, why don't you, Camille and I go back to the ship. I borrowed some tea from one of the Companions and I'd love to share it."

"Inara," Camille protested, but by now, Mal had seen what was going on.

He lifted her into his arms. "I think we all best be leaving Simon and his boy to their fun." His eyes ran over Prophet's form again, lingering. "And, uh. You have fun." With that, he turned.

Camille was able to smirk at him until Mal had turned the corner and they'd disappeared.

"Tea sounds good," Kaylee said. "Come on, River. Night Simon."

"Night," River called, running after Kaylee.

Zoe simply smiled and closed the door behind her.

When they were alone again, Simon sighed. "I should probably go after them. Make sure Camille is okay."

"She's fine," Prophet assured him. He took Simon's hands and tugged him back to the bed. "When your brain gets overloaded, you need to stay away from psychic activity until it cools down again. They probably only let her go thinking she'd go back to Serenity. The hanger is lined with enough clay to make it act almost like a darkroom." He licked Simon's chin. "She'll be fine."

"Will she." Simon allowed himself to be drawn to the bed. He leaned close and caught Prophet's mouth in a sloppy, wet kiss. "She is a fragile, delicate little thing."

Prophet snorted. "Oh, yeah. Real fragile. Tell me again how she almost took advantage of you?"

He laughed, but laughter quickly morphed into something else as Prophet went to work on him with hands, tongue, and lips.

And, somehow, everything else suddenly didn't see quite as important anymore.


	15. Chapter 15

For the first time in weeks, dinner was a family affair, save for Simon, of course. And the boy.

The boy. Mal had no right to be jealous of him and he knew it. No cause at all, and yet… it were a bit hard not to be. It weren't just that the boy was beautiful and brilliant and funny--Camille was all that, too, and more, and Mal actually liked her. It weren't that he wanted the boy, or even Simon.

It was just that... Once upon a time, Mal had been the one who would have been able to make that look appear on Simon's face. The hopeful, dreamy, _happy_ look.

And he was so pretty when he was happy.

But Mal had passed up that chance. He'd cared for Simon, even wanted him. But he hadn't known how to say yes. It wasn't that he wasn't satisfied with the way things turned out. If he'd been with Simon, he couldn't have Camille, after all.

Maybe it was simply because Simon had chosen to be happy with that boy. If it'd been anyone else…

"How much room would you say that boy takes up?" Mal asked Camille. He had one arm over the back of her chair and was leaning in real close, so as not to disturb anyone else

She turned her head, mouth mere inches from his. Before she could answer, he was kissing her.

He'd managed to take her by surprise, judging by the noise she made in her throat. Her head titled back, mouth opened. She tasted like the tea Inara was serving and too much sugar and a hint of salt. Mal couldn't get enough. He gripped her chin in one hand, thumb scraping over soft, soft skin.

Camille's feet twined around Mal's chair; she tugged herself closer to him. Her fingers tugged at his hair, and she was sighing in soft, almost desperate moans as she kissed Mal hard.

"I'll be in my bunk," Jayne announced. There was the sound of a chair scrapping the floor and then slamming back into the table.

Embarrassed, Mal broke the kiss. In his arms, Camille was flushed and hot. Her eyes were glazed.

"Two perfectly good bunks between the two of you, and you choose the kitchen," Zoe said.

"Again," Wash added. "Don't forget about their quickie the other day."

"Will you shut up about that?" Mal snapped, face burning. "It never happened." He didn't like the looks everyone was giving him. "Stop it!"

"It's just so good to see you happy, Captain!" Kaylee gushed. "And in love. You've never been so in love that you just, you know. Go for it."

He shot a look at Inara.

Inara, damn her, looked 'bout as complacent and all that you could be, considering their history. In fact, she looked down right pleased, all smirky and twinkly eyed at him above her tea cup.

"Do I have to remind anyone here who's captain?" he asked.

"No," everyone said. They all looked at Camille. She laughed.

"Do you all want to sabotage me?" she asked, slipping her hand into Mal's and squeezing. "You know how important it is for him to think… I mean for him to be in charge."

"Why thank you, darlin', for that show of support," he said dryly.

"Any time." She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then turned back to her meal. "Oh, and Prophet definitely takes up much to much room."

"Meaning, if I took him on, I'd have to get a bigger ship?"

"No. I mean that you'd have to get a bigger galaxy."

Mal sighed. "Wonderful."

"He'd be an asset," Camille said. "Prophet can do wonders with a computer. He and Mr. Universe used to run around the Cortext, chancing each other, trying to figure out who'd hacked into places the other wanted to go or who was diverting stuff well. Prophet used to get all incensed at what he perceived as the biggest threat to his supremacy in cyberspace until he stumbled across Mr. Universe's signal. Now they're partners in crime a lot of the time."

"I thought Prophet reminded me of someone," Wash said with a snap of his fingers. "He's got that same kind of manic genius as Mr. Universe."

"And the irony is, Prophet finds Mr. Universe annoying."

Mal groaned and rubbed his eyes. Mr. Universe could be right helpful at times, but damn if he didn't dance all over Mal's nerves. Living with his prettier and psychic counterpart would send him to an early grave.

Camille put her cheek on his shoulder. "I'll be here, don't forget."

"Oh, I'm counting you into the annoyance factor."

"Gee, thanks."

"Ain't he just the sweet talker?" Kaylee asked. "When he ain't making girls cry, he's coating 'em with honey and... Huh. That might actually be kinda fun, Captain."

A jolt of horror went through him. "Kaylee!"

"Actually, she's right," Wash said. "You just pour a little in the right place, and..."

"Can we not discuss this at the dinner table?" he asked.

"They're talking about food," Inara pointed out unhelpfully.

"Doesn't it get sticky?" River asked, eyes as big as her head.

"Simon's gonna kill y'all," Mal said. "Now can you stop..."

"Well, sex isn't exactly stick free, River," said Inara. "It's messy."

River wrinkled her nose.

"No, sweetie." Mal would never understand how someone who sounded as sweet and innocent as Kaylee could have such a dirty and knowledgeable mind. "It's sweaty and sticky and messy, but it's wonderful. And the honey thing was just a joke."

"You liked the idea. So did Wash and Inara. Even Zoe."

"River, dear, it's not nice to read people's mind at the dinner table," Zoe said mildly. She met Mal's eyes, then looked at Camille.

Or, rather, Camille's empty seat.

River tugged her hair. "Loud thought. Sorry." Her brow furrowed. "Sex shuts off the adult desire for cleanliness? There's no rational reason to want to be sticky."

"Desire isn't rational," Inara said as Mal quietly rose and excused himself from the table. The conversation was disturbing on too many levels as it was; at least now he had an excuse to leave.

Camille was in her room, sitting on her bed. Her head was handing at the level of her chest, hair falling in her face. One arm was behind her head and she was sliding a hypodermic needle out from her neck.

She sat up and tossed her hair out of her face.

"You okay?" Mal asked. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

"I'm fine. Just needed a quick adjustment." Carefully, she undid the hypo and placed it into an open book next to her. "Sorry to drag you away."

"No, really, don't worry about it. Those sweet little girls are talking about kinky sex, being taught by a professional." He went to the bed and took Camille's hands. "I should be thanking you."

Camille gave him a lopsided smile. "You got something against kinky sex, Malcolm?" She tugged gently.

Mal allowed himself to fall on her, catching himself on the mattress so he didn't blanket her. "Not exactly," he admitted. "It's just a bit disturbing to hear people you think of as little sisters talking like that." He kissed her.

"Mmmm." Camille stretched and put her hands on his back. "Didn't you first meet Kaylee while she was having sex in the engine room?"

"It's different. Back then, she weren't anything more but some genius mechanic. Now, she's like this little ball of sunshine that floats through all the bad stuff that goes on. And that sort of stuff shouldn't be ... kinky."

"Little ball of sunshine. Why, Captain Reynolds, I do believe you are just the most poetical man I ever did meet."

He laughed and bent down to nuzzle just under her jaw. "You're so beautiful." He nipped her neck softly.

"Glad you finally noticed." She sounded breathless, one hand moving from his back to his head and back again.

"Oh, I noticed right away. Believe me." He kissed her, long and deep. "But there are still... things."

Camille was breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and red. "Yes, and if you don't do something with that thing soon..."

"I don't know anything about you."

"_Wo zai qian shi yi ding re dao shen me re le ba_," Camille said, eyes rolling. She squirmed from underneath him and crawled to the head of the bed. "What don't you know about me?"

He climbed onto the bed and leaned against the wall. "Well, for starters, I don't know what color your hair is. Ain't never seen it without the red, and while I like the red, I still don't know."

"It's blonde. Kinda like yours. Darkish, but when I'm in the sun, it lightens right up."

Mal nodded, one hand on her leg. "When's your birthday?"

She faltered, eyes going down and to the right. She twisted the blanket in her fingers. "April seventeenth," she finally said.

Space travel was a bitch on dates, but what with the terraforming and rigid Alliance control over everything, at least dates stayed the same no matter where you went. Still, it took Mal a few seconds to figure out what day it was and when April was.

"So you're turning twenty-one soon."

She closed her eyes. A muscle in her jaw twitched.

"_Shen me_?" he said, figuring that the weren't going to like what she was going to say.

"Not exactly," she finally said. She opened her eyes, but didn't look at him.

"How can you not exactly turn twenty-one."

She shrugged. "I guess when you turn a different age. Like, one that isn't twenty-one."

"And what age would that be?" He had a feeling it wasn't older. Mal just hoped it wasn't too much younger.

"Something like twenty," Camille said softly.

"Twenty," he repeated. "You said you was twenty."

Her lips twitched. "Well, Captain, I have this reputation for being something of a storyteller."

"You mean a liar."

This time she did look up at him. "Captain, one cannot be a successful chameleon without the ability to roleplay."

"What was the point of ageing yourself up a year?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Don't know. Just seemed like the thing to do." She fixed him with a penetrating look. "It matters to you. Why?"

Mal rubbed his head, the ach returning. "I don't know," he admitted. He moved closer to her and pulled her into his lap.

Camille came easily, climbing on him and resting her head on his shoulder. So trusting with him. Loving.

Young.

"Just makes me feel old, I guess. Not as old as … as him," he stumbled over the name, finding he couldn't say it, "but still old." He ran a thumb down her cheek. "Maybe too old."

"Why do you get to decide that?"

"Huh?"

"Why is how old is too old for me something that's left up to other people? Why can't I ever be the one to decide?"

"Now I guess that's the question," Mal said thoughtfully. He considered it. The only thing he came up with was, "Guilt."

She rolled her eyes. "Find something else to be guilty about. I'm sure in your life you can find something that you deserve to feel guilt over." She grimaced. "I have."

Mal rubbed her back and kissed her gently. "Ain't nothing you did that was your fault."

"I agreed to be experimented on. They talked circles round me, but I agreed."

"And you was, what? Fifteen when that happened? A kid."

"I should have been smart enough not to volunteer for the Independents, so some people tell me."

"It's not the same." She toyed with the buttons on his shirt. "That was for something you believed in."

Mal slipped his hand underneath her shirt and stroked her back. "Well, why'd you agree to let them do what they did to you?"

"I didn't know they'd cut into my brain," Camille admitted. "They just said all this stuff about me being great and leading folk and the like. I thought, well, I thought I'd be doing something good. Like fighting the Reavers."

"Sounds like you were just doing something you believed in, too."

"Oh, sure," she groused. "Be logical." She pressed her face into his chest as she undid the first three buttons of his shirt. Her hand slipped inside and she explored his skin with her fingers. "Being worried about my age is stupid, Mal. I've seen and done things that make me older than however many years I've been alive." She tilted her head back. "And you're just looking for reasons to protest."

"Maybe so." He ran his thumb over her jaw. "Weren't never wise enough to woo peacefully."

Her face lit up all pretty. "Ah, honey. You're all educated and the like." She kissed him. "You can quote Shakespeare."

"Don't tell. You'll ruin my reputation, but I have read a poem or two in my life." He nipped her lower lip. "And my momma liked plays. Used to sit round the fire and read 'em with the hands--those that could read--nights. Specially the cold ones."

"You grew up on Shadow."

He nodded. "You grew up on." Mal frowned, stumbling over yet another gap in his knowledge of her. "Where did you grow up."

"Right in the center of it all: Londinium," she answered. "I am a bona fide, Core-bred princess."

"Whose Daddy moved you off-world to a ranch and joined up with the Independents," Mal said thoughtfully. "Why?"

"I guess even rich men have their principals sometimes." She touched his cheek. "You miss it?"

He nodded. "With every breath." His eyes focused on hers. "You?"

"Not so much. I don't remember it well. I remember more of Greenleaf, where we moved."

"Not exactly on the frontier, Greenleaf."

She shrugged. "Daddy was rich and he had a well-bred wife and a little girl to think of. A little girl who was prone to wandering off on her own and getting herself into enough trouble where it was safe. He knew that war was on the horizon, knew that he'd want a hand in it. Still, he wanted us safe."

"I'm glad. I'm glad he didn't move you to Shadow," Mal said, thinking of what would have happened had she been there during the bombing. Been there, probably huddling in the cellar, surrounded by the hands, much like his Momma musta been, while the Alliance pelted their fury on the planet.

"Not much consolation, but I wouldn't have been there by the time they..." She trailed off. "I think we've effectively killed the mood."

He laughed a gallows laugh and kissed her forehead. "I think you're right. Why don't we have a drink? I have a nice bottle of whiskey down in my..." He hesitated, but didn't seem like the time to go changing words around at all. "Bunk."

Camille climbed off and took his hands. "I could use a drink. Plus, I've always wanted to see where the Great Captain Reynolds bunks down."

"Oh, believe me, I've noticed." Holding her hand in his, Mal led her out of her room. A quick glance into the dining room revealed that it was empty, which was something of a mixed blessing. He knew that everyone on the ship knew his and Camille's business--it was, after all, a small ship. Still, nothing killed the mood faster than a bunch of knowing smirks thrown in his direction and a crowd outside the door.

"Where'd they go, you think?" Mal asked Camille softly.

"Why? You afraid they're all going to be down there, waiting for us?"

"No, I…" But her eyes were laughing knowingly at him. "Why do you ask me if you know the answer already?"

"It's not as fun. Anyway, Zoe and Wash went to their bunk and the girls are in Inara's shuttle."

He frowned and glanced up at it. "Any idea why?"

"Mal, a girl's gotta learn about sex somewhere. Might as well be from the experts, right?"

Oh. Right.

Mal opened the door to his bunk and gestured for Camille to proceed him. Once they were both inside, he asked, "So, how sex-fiendy is River gonna get, anyway?"

"I wouldn't worry about it. Your virtue is safe." She shrugged on shoulder and ran her eyes slowly over him. "At least from her."

A fire lit in his belly, and there was an answering spark in her eyes. He was very aware of her--the way she smelled of dried sweat and tears with that slight aseptic sting of a hospital; the variations of color in her eyes; the faint trace of freckles across her nose, almost faded as pale as her skin, but visible when he looked close. Her hair. Her lips. The curves of her body.

Before he did anything, Mal went to the shelf where he was keeping the liquor she'd bought him forever ago. "Don't have any fancy glasses," he said. He took up a couple of mugs and turned back to her, handing her one.

"I can be fancy as any Companion on any Core world you chose to go to, but that's not really who I am. Can't play rough if you're busy worrying about tearing your skirt." She took the mug.

"You even drink?" Mal asked as he poured. "I mean, is it safe? I remember you didn't have anything back on Dyton."

"One won't hurt."

He nodded and poured for himself. "So. What do we toast to?"

"Family?" she suggested.

"Old and new." He clinked mugs with hers. Eyes locked on one another's, the both drank.

Camille coughed, nose wrinkling. "Strong."

"Good." It burned own his throat, feeding the already burning flame inside. He stepped to her and ran his knuckles over her cheek. "You are so beautiful," he breathed. "What would you want with an old, broken man like me?"

"I might ask the same thing." She took the mug from his hand and set it and hers on a nearby table. "I hardly know who I am. Even with my medicine, there are days I'm not exactly sane. I can't play anything without it getting rough." Camille slid her hands over his stomach and rest on the small of his back. "And you're hardly broke, Mal. A bit battered, maybe run down. Not broke." She stood on her toes and kissed him softly. "And you're brave and loyal and handsome and funny. You're the type that you want when around when things go south. And, believe me," she added wryly, "in my life, they tend to."

He lifted her into his arms. "Funny, it's happened a time or two in my life as well." Mal laid her onto his bed. "But don't tell; I try to keep it from the crew."

Camille laughed, hands back at his buttons, undoing them slowly. "I'll never tell." Her fingers slipped under his suspenders and she tugged them over his shoulders and down his arms.

"This ain't gonna cause any problems with Gar... anyone is it?" He shrugged out of his shirt, dropping it to the floor.

"Rules, Malcolm. Never mention the lover's ex while the lover is undressing you."

"Duly noted." He kissed her, tongue stroking at the crease in her lips.

She opened, her back arching. Her tongue met his, stroking, tasting, twisting around his until it was less of a kiss and more of a preview of what their bodies would soon be doing. Mal's head spun as the kiss deepened. Camille kneaded his neck. Her body writhed underneath his and her breathless moans teased his ear, flaming the fire hotter.

Time seemed to slow. Thoughts turned into sensations and images: her skin against his; her eyes, dark, her pupils dilated; the wet heat of her mouth around him; the way she tasted.

For a long time, there was nothing but their bodies moving in tandem. They fit together better than anyone he'd been with before, moving as one, no awkwardness, no discomfort. He might have tugged her hair on accident, and she might have elbowed him or dug her heel into a sensitive spot, and once or twice, teeth might have grazed where they oughtn, but that was okay. The pleasure far outweighed any discomfort, and the complete immersion in one another quickly overrode any missteps.

Sweat dripped from the ends of his hair and made Camille's bangs stick up from her face, spiky and dark. He found himself whispering into her neck as she rocked against him, arms locked around his neck.

"What did you say?" she whispered, lips grazing his temple.

"Poetry. I think. It goes something like, 'with my body, I worship you,' or something." He sucked a spot on her neck, feeling more than hearing her laugh. "What?"

She clenched her hand in his hair, pulling his hair back. "It's not poetry, Mal. It's from a version of wedding vows."

He blinked sweat from his eyes. "Wedding vows?"

Camille smiled and rocked against him faster. "With this ring, I thee wed. With my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly possessions I endow."

Somehow, Mal didn't think that wedding vows were supposed to sound like that, all breathy and edged with a whining keen that just bought pushed him over the edge.

"Pretty." He tightened his grip on her and shifted position so she was flat on the bed, him propped over her.

Her legs were wrapped around him, but her arms fell away. She gripped the sheets and cried out with each thrust.

"Those ain't what we said usually on Shadow," Mal said, slowing.

Glazed blue eyes opened and met his.

"I went to my fair share of weddings back home. Mostly what was said was, 'I take you, Camille Kathleen O'Malley, to be my partner in life and my one true love.' "

Camille shuddered and let out a startled-sounding cry. Her eyes rolled back then squeezed shut.

Mal bent down and kissed her, picking up his pace once more. Camille's kiss was languid now, satisfied. Her body though...

It didn't take long for him to follow. For a long moment, he stayed as he was, propped on his forearms. He gazed down at her face, so young--probably too young for him--and so beautiful, although, he couldn't rightly say if he was objective at all on that score.

"You okay?" he asked. He kissed her softly before he rolled off.

"Yeah." She sounded distant. Sleepy. Without opening her eyes, she curled into him, pressing her warm, slick body into his. Camille kissed his chest, mouth just grazing a long faded scar. "So. Lot's of people on Shadow had my name?"

Mal laughed. He rested his hand on her lower back, just above the swell of her bottom, and kissed her forehead. "Ain't no one I know has your name, Katie."

Camille's eyes opened. "Katie?" One pale eyebrow arched.

"Anyone ever call you Katie before?"

"No. And Camille hardly shortens to Katie."

"Kathleen does, though. I figure, Camille is his name."

"Malcolm."

"Not even after?"

"You want to talk about him while in bed with me? Jeeze, Mal, I think you bedded the wrong one."

He bit her ear. "Be nice. It looked like you just had fun there. If you want more fun on me, don't go saying things like that."

She smirked. "_Dui bu qi_." The words were followed by a soft kiss. "I chose the name Camille. I didn't feel like Kathleen anymore. She'd been taken away." Her fingers tugged at his ear.

"I lost myself at Serenity Valley. I know how hard it is to get anywhere near normal again."

Camille shivered and reached behind her, tugging a sheet over her body.

Mal reached and snagged the comforter off the floor, placing it over both. "You got a huge part of your life taken, I know that. Maybe you never got a chance to find out who Kathleen was. I get that." He shrugged and slipped his arm around her waist, tugging her close. "I found myself again here, on Serenity. I love my ship and my crew is my family. Maybe you could find yourself here, too."

"Maybe." She worried her lower lip. "Just you, though. No one else. I'm not ready to stop being Camille. I am her. But maybe, with you, I can be Katie, too."

Small victory, and he'd take it. He rather liked having something more of her to himself. Something beyond the physical and this mind thing. Something intimate, like a name.

"I can do that, darlin' Katie," he whispered. He kissed her again, then gathered her into his arms. "I love you."

She sighed. "I love you, Malcolm Reynolds." Then she bit him. "Now can I get some sleep?"

Mal laughed and squeezed her. "Yeah. I guess so."

* * *

(Wo zai qian shi yi ding re dao shen me re le ba_: I surely annoyed someone or other in a past life, didn't I . . _

Shen me: _What_

Dui bu qi_: I'm sorry)_


	16. Chapter 16

Quiet wakefulness. Serenity, alive, in touch with her passengers, moved with them as if she had a circadian rhythm of its own. When she was calm, River could feel the ship as it moved through her daily rhythms, just like any person: wake, live, go about her day, tire, sleep. And when she was calm, River latched herself to that rhythm, living it, breathing it, sinking inside her. 

More logically, she latched onto the rhythm of a person. Each member of Serenity's crew was a part of her--Serenity, River, sometimes there wasn't a difference. At different times, a different person represented her best. A different person to latch on to.

In the beginning, it had been the captain. Right after she'd emerged from her box, his mind had shown like a beacon. Shining, silver and keen and right, waves not as rough as the typhoon of her mind.

She had found his mind and latched onto it. He'd brushed away the cobwebs, kept the worst of the monsters away. The worst nightmare. He was River's rock.

But it changed. He grew erratic, upset, never the same day in and out. Inara was better, steady, smooth, not as sensitive. Not as receptive, but easy enough to crawl inside.

Then, Simon made the medicine work better. River found Kaylee. Kaylee, who was bright and cheerful and smart and more steady than anyone River had ever met. And she was Serenity in so many ways. The ship, River already loved. The girl, she'd been fascinated with. It was only a short step to fall for her as well.

River swung her legs slowly, gazing sightlessly at the empty cargo hold.

Serenity was waking. Too slowly, too quickly for the day to come. And River was caught, drifting with the tide.

The door to Mal's cabin opened. River didn't need to turn around to know who had emerged. She simply held up the mug of coffee she'd brought with her in offering.

"Thank God," Camille sighed, sounding as if she'd been wandering the desert and finally stumbled onto an oasis. She took the coffee and sat next to River.

"Prophet said you need it to survive. Like you sweat coffee during sex."

Camille pulled her mouth away from the mug, swallowing. "Lovely image."

"Poet."

"Don't tell him that. He'll get a big head." She took another swallow of her coffee. / Like his head isn't already big enough/ she added mentally.

River smiled. "Too big for the ship. Gonna cause problems." Then she sighed. "Better he comes with us, though. Good for Simon." She glanced at Camille. "Sex is different for you and Simon."

She frowned and shot a look at River.

"Than Inara." River shrugged. "She has a client, goes off, has sex, comes back the same. Not radiant. Not happy. Complacent. Fulfilled. Like Book after he prays. Not a joy, just a duty. Sacred and important. Not something done for…" She trailed off, unable to find the word.

"The need to connect to another person out of desire to have them just to yourself," Camille said.

"'Love is never selfish'," River quoted.

Camille snorted. "Like most things in that gorram book, that's go se. I mean, Simon loves you, would do everything for you. He gave up his whole life for you. Part of that's because he wants what's best for you. Most of it. But a part of it's also for him. Because he needs you. He isn't whole without you." She took another sip of her coffee. "Heard a preacher once go on about how wanting someone, lusting after them, it's selfish. It thinks only of your own pleasure and none of them. I never saw that true. I lust after Mal. I want him, want the pleasure he can give me. Don't mean I don't want to do the same for him. But if there isn't something in it for me, I don't think it's really love."

"Your first time… That's what was missing. The Companions weren't in love with you. It wasn't love. Garrison fell in love at first sight, and you wanted that connected. To give him something even while you were taking."

Her eyes suddenly burned brightly. Camille tried to blink the tears away, but they fell.

River took her hand and squeezed. "More than enough room for both. And moving on doesn't take away."

"I know." She licked her lips. "I never thought of that before. You're right." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "When I'm not with… when it's just about sex, I'm not like this."

"Happy?"

She shrugged.

"Radiant." River shivered. "I'm scared."

"Of sex?"

She shook her head, mute.

"Oh." Camille moved her hand in River's until their fingers were interlaced. "It's not that bad." Hollow words.

"I envy you for not knowing. I long to be ignorant of what's to come." She breathed deep. "How can I walk into that room knowing the doctor cut into my brain just like they did?"

"It's not the same. They don't cut your brain. Just put the device right here." Camille touched the base of River's skull. "It slides right in and attaches. You'll barely know it's there."

"Unless Inara kicks me in the head."

"She does do that."

"And when I need a shot."

She smiled wryly. "Well, yeah. But otherwise, it's fine." She scrubbed her hand through her hair. "It would be easier if you didn't know. And now you've had all this time to worry about it. And I didn't help with what I did yesterday."

"Wasn't on purpose."

"No. It still didn't help." She squeezed River's hand. "But you'll be fine, I promise. And I'll be with you, won't leave your side. We'll get you fixed up."

"It's just a matter of popping open the lid, playing around with the wetworks, and sewing you back up."

"Prophet!" Camille shouted.

Although the words sent a shiver through her, River bumped Camille with her shoulder. "Rule one: don't listen to anything he says."

Camille smiled. "True."

"Oh, well then, since it's just you and me, Camille, I just have to tell you about the guy I bagged last night. His co... ouch!" Prophet rubbed the back of his head. "What'd you do that for?"

"You are such a twat."

"Two brightly glowing souls, one broken lightbulb." River sighed. "Be the light or reflect it."

"Hell no," Prophet said. "We are the light. That's why we got picked, little brook. We're the brightest lights in the verse. It's the duty of the rest of them to reflect our light."

"And the duty of loves to keep us in check," River suggested.

Prophet put his hand over his heart. "As if I need to be kept in check. You wound me with your implication."

River glanced at Camille. They both burst into giggles.

"Women. This isn't fair." Prophet pouted, but River could feel that he was happy. Really, truly happy since the first time they'd met. Like he was whole again.

It was good. But, not. She wasn't Trinity and didn't want to be. She couldn't fill the other women's shoes. She was too damaged, too raw and new.

"Hey." Prophet slung his arm over her shoulder. "Don't worry. I would never cast you in Trinity's role." He kissed her forehead. "You're too skinny, for one. And I'm more interested in bedding your brother than you. It's just nice to be a threesome again. You may both be against me right now, but one day, little brook, one day, it'll be you and me against the chameleon. "

River kissed his cheek. "Just keep that in mind."

Prophet kissed her again, then glanced over River to Camille. "Nice shirt." He smirked. "Forgot your pants."

Camille extended her legs and looked at them admiringly. "If I wore pants, I couldn't show these off. I rather like them."

"I'm a mite fond of them myself." Mal crouched behind Camille and kissed her neck. "Mornin'."

She tilted her head back, rested it on his shoulder. "Hey you." They kissed.

Prophet cleared his throat loudly.

"I see you." Mal shot him a look. "Morning Prophet. River." He kissed Camille again.

"No fair. River and I need kisses too."

"Y'all got your own lovers to kiss you. Don't need me. Now." He sat behind Camille, pulling her into his lap and dangled his legs over the edge of the railing. "What's on the agenda today?"

Camille handed him her coffee. "Breakfast with the troops."

Mal grimaced.

"Then Camille gets her brain poked at with big, shiny sticks, River does the same. Then River has a date with a bone saw, they'll tinker a bit with the noggin, and, poof! All done."

"And then the real fun begins." River swallowed and leaned into Prophet, although, currently, he was the least comforting person there. Still, his open cynicism and mockery was kind of refreshing. It had a sharper edge than Mal's, but his pain was so much newer. And intention was different. Mal was a cynical idealist; he desperately longed for something greater to believe in, had built something to believe in out of a broken old ship full of broken people, loved with all his heart but didn't trust it to not be taken away. Prophet was more vulnerable. He wanted to believe but hadn't found a purpose yet. And he still wanted punishment for the abuse he'd suffered.

Mal's pain glowed dully, like old brass. Prophet's shone bright as gold in the sunlight.

"We can still back out, little one. Pack up our own and say good-bye to this gorram moon."

"No, Captain. I want to get better." Then, with a sideways glance, she added, "Everyone else is getting laid. It's my turn."

She laughed as Mal turned red.

"Come on, Brooke." Prophet stood and tugged River with him. "Lets go claim a table for breakfast."

"How much time do we have?" asked Mal.

"About ten minutes." Prophet smiled cheekily. "Dress fast." He looped his arm around River's waist and led her away.

River waited until they were off Serenity and in the school. "What's wrong."

"Garrison pulled me aside this morning. I know, and he knows, that Camille wants to be there with you, but he doesn't think that's a good idea."

"What do you think?"

"For once, Garrison might have something. Camille's kind of high strung right now."

"While you are always very calm."

"Even Steven, that's my name." Prophet smiled charmingly. "Kaylee can be there, too, but it's important to have a psychic around. And the psychic who's there should continue to be there to help you along until you settle in."

River narrowed her eyes. "And he chose you."

Prophet smirked. "Yeah, well. He's stacking his deck. In more ways than one. We bond and your captain will have to take me along when we scatter. I get to stay with Simon, which Garrison could give fuck-all about, and, more importantly, I get to stay with Camille. Plus, you'll be there to boss me around and I'll be just as happy as pie."

"I'm younger than you are."

"Yeah, but you can still be my mother figure."

She frowned.

"Okay, big sister. Sister. Twin?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

Breakfast passed without incident. Garrison sat at a different table, although he and Mal did exchange terse but pleasant greetings. Jayne made crude innuendos--nothing new--Simon blushed so hard he looked like he'd been dipped and paint and Camille, relaxed and self-assured, met and matched everything Jayne threw at her.

"Is Jayne quieter?" River asked Camille after he'd left.

Camille nodded. "A few days here, even the most obtuse learn how to blanket themselves. It's defensive. Whether he consciously or not, he's realized that he keeps losing whatever game he's playing because his mind is broadcasting. So, the brain counters by throwing up defenses. Shallow ones, but they're there. Anyone can do it."

Trouble didn't start until after breakfast. Garrison came to the table. "River. It's time."

Her pulse pounded at her temples. She stood and nodded.

"Garrison." Simon pushed away from the table. "I understand why I can't do the actual procedures, but I'd like to be there."

"Of course." He looked at Mal.

Mal nodded. "You ain't taken no one from my crew anywhere without me there."

"I expected nothing less. And, Kaylee. I assume you want to be at least nearby."

"'Course." Kaylee's hand gripped River's too tightly. "Only, honey, I don't know iffen I actually want to see them. You know. Cut you."

"Just be near." River kissed her.

Garrison turned to Camille. He looked at her.

The air changed.

"You bastard."

"Camille..."

"You ... no!"

Mal was at Camille's side. "What's going on?"

Any excuse to fight, River thought, tired.

Prophet stepped besides Garrison. "Garrison doesn't want Camille with River. I'm going to be there, instead."

"You had a hard day yesterday, Camille."

"Go se. You're jealous that I've moved on."

"Unlike some, I am not led solely by my libido."

The words echoed like a slap. Camille stood, stricken.

Inara moved first. Dark eyes like poison, she took Camille by the shoulders and turned her away. "Come, bao bei. You don't need to be here."

Camille moved mechanically. Pale face, eyes dark, she looked like a doll. Coppelia, dancing done, being returned to her shelf.

The eyes of both men who loved her on her back.

Mal watched until Camille was gone. Then he turned to Garrison and punched.

The other man stumbled back, lip split. He straightened. "Happy?"

"If I leave this moon right now, it will not have been soon enough."

Garrison's smile was tired. "And you've never said the wrong thing to the woman you love? You've never had a love you denied yourself and lashed out at her for the choices you made?"

River watched as Mal opened his mouth to deny it, only to realize he couldn't.

"And yet another reason to dislike me, Captain. We are too much alike." He turned back to River. "Let's go. The doctors are waiting."

Kaylee took her hand and her brother put his hand on her shoulder. Thus fortified, River walked to the procedure room.


	17. Chapter 17

"I'm never leaving her side again," Simon said. He looked into the operating theater, his fingers on the ledge before him, nose practically against the glass. There were seats behind him, for more comfortable viewing, but he ignored them. With River inside, he couldn't relax. Couldn't be comfortable. Could only stand and watch, helpless.

Prophet snorted at Simon's comment. "Oh, that'll make everyone's lives fun."

"It'll make her life safer," Simon said. Illogically. He was being illogical and knew it. "For God's sake, I was only away from her one afternoon. Look what she agreed to do in that time." He shot a look at Mal. "I thought you said I could depend on Zoe to keep her safe."

"And I thought I was captain of my gorram ship," Mal shot back. "Lately, though, seems like everyone's gone and got their own idea of how things are run."

"Oh no, the people on your ship aren't mindless automatons," Prophet said. "Whatever are you going to do?" He was sitting on the floor at Simon's feet. Although he was there to help ground River, he had refused to go into the room while the actual surgery was taking place.

Not, Simon knew, there was a reason he had to be in there. Just because River's body was in there didn't mean her mind was contained within the four walls. Besides, the room did need to be sterile. Simon suspected that Prophet's reluctance to go in was not just due to fear of what was going on or what he might do. He also didn't want to put the scrubs on, lest he be even the slightest bit unfashionable.

That was unfair, and Simon knew it. Prophet was clearly terrified. He wouldn't even look through the window. He sat on the floor, back pressed against the wall. His eyes were closed tightly, head pressed into Simon's leg. Him being here was a sacrifice, although Simon didn't know if he'd put himself in this position so he could be with Simon or to help River. And, honestly, it didn't matter. He was here.

"You know," Prophet continued taunting the captain, "if you're looking for automatons, I know a neat little school where you can pick some up."

"You best shut your mouth, boy."

"Personally, I recommend picking up a unit," Prophet went on. "They work well together. Designed that way, you know. Camille was made that way. A leader, but part of a team. Anyway, when you get a unit out, they stay saner longer. Although, who knows? This late in the game, maybe they don't go insane anymore. Maybe they're actually useful, instead of…"

"I swear..."

"Mal, please." Simon tore his eyes away from River's unconscious form to give Mal a pleading look.

"I ain't the one being provoking," Mal protested.

"I'm just telling what's what. And I don't know why you're so easily irritated. Camille lose her gift?"

Simon grabbed Mal as he lunged at Prophet. "Mal, please." His mouth was against Mal's ear. "You're here to make sure River's okay. Don't fight with Prophet."

"I ain't the one starting it," he repeated.

"I know. Be the bigger man."

"Or just ask yourself what Katie'd want you to do."

Mal's hands tightened. Simon gasped. Tears rose to his eyes.

"Hey!" Prophet was on his feet. He grabbed Simon and yanked him from Mal.

Mal didn't let go, and, for a moment, Simon was the rope in a painful tug-of-war.

"Let him go, Captain." Prophet's voice was low. Steely.

Simon's breath caught in this throat.

"_You couldn't've done it, Jayne_," Kaylee's voice suddenly rang in his head. "_Nor you, captain; not nobody can shoot like that that's a person_."

At the time, he'd been hurt by Kaylee's words. River was a person. Just like him. Just like Kaylee or Jayne or anyone else. She was.

_"She took my gun. Closed her eyes. Killed 'em."_

Prophet's eyes were black, mouth in a thin line. The hand on Simon's arm wasn't the same one that'd touched him so gently the night before. Wasn't the thin, soft instrument that'd played his body, coaxing it higher and hotter into the hot abyss. The body wasn't soft an yielding as it'd been that morning.

Somehow, it had never been real before. He hadn't seen River shoot. Camille had just been another body to patch up, vulnerable and stupid, like Mal or Jayne. And Prophet had just been... Prophet.

He swallowed, throat aching. "Mal," he whispered. His heart thudded against his ribs, pulse pounded in his temples.

Mal let him go. He raised his hands, palms out. "Now, Prophet..."

Prophet thrust Simon behind him. Simon stumbled. Fell against the window of the operating theater. Winced at the pain when the sill dug into his arm.

Prophet took a step as he advanced on Mal.

Mal backed up. "I ain't a threat to you," he said, voice soft. "Simon's yours, no questions asked. I forfeit my right to him long time ago. And I got my girl now. Wouldn't be fair to double dip." He crooked a half smile and added, "Least not without invitation."

"Don't ever touch him again."

"Well, now, I can't promise I won't do that," Mal said with a shrug. "Besides him being my doctor, he's my crew and I do get a might protective at times. But, I won't never make advances without his or your by-your-leave."

Prophet shook his head. "Don't ever hurt him again."

Mal swallowed. "I'll try."

His fists clenched and he took another step towards Mal.

The captain stepped back. "I won't hurt him. I promise."

"Go away, Captain," Prophet said.

"I..."

"Go. Away."

Mal shot a look at Simon, then turned and walked away. Considering he hadn't his gun and Prophet could probably kill a man with his pinky, it was a wise decision.

As soon as Mal was out of site, Prophet turned. His face was still set and pale, eyes black. His movements were strong and deliberate as he crossed to Simon.

"My sister?" Simon asked.

The eyes flicked to the window and unfocused. "She's fine," he said, snapping back.

Unsure of what Prophet would do, Simon swallowed and shrank back against the window. But Prophet just put his hands on Simon's body and pet him, feeling his arms, his neck, his torso for injuries. More gentle than a physician, more platonic than a lover, more loving than anything he'd ever experienced.

"I don't want you to be afraid of me," Prophet said after his exploration was done. His hands were curled lightly around Simon's wrists, seeking permission, not restraining. "I wouldn't hurt you."

Simon swallowed, searched for his voice. "I know."

"No." Blue eyes found his. "You think I'm unpredictable. That I might turn and lash out at you next. And not even realize what I'm doing."

Mind reader. "You were just so different."

Thin lips quirked. "There's who I am. And there's what I do." He cupped Simon's face. "Same with you. One man in the trauma unit, another on the outside."

He couldn't deny that.

"I didn't like him hurting you."

"He wasn't."

Prophet raised an eyebrow.

"He doesn't think sometimes," Simon amended. "That was nothing. He's worried. About River. About Camille. You were provoking him."

"Still. He had no right to hurt you."

"He's a good man."

He hitched a shoulder. "Camille seems to like him well enough." He pressed his lips into the corner of Simon's mouth. "But I like you, better." He kissed Simon. "I don't want someone so damaged. I want you."

Simon snorted. His hands still pressed against the wall, but he leaned his head against Prophet's. Prophet nuzzled him, mouth and nose under Simon's jaw, brushing against sensitive skin as if scenting.

"I'm damaged," Simon said, bitterness in his voice.

"Purified." Prophet's tongue licked along Simon's jugular. "All you've been through, and you're still so perfect." His hands tightened.

"Don't put me on a pedestal. I'm afraid of heights."

Prophet bit him, lightly, not even hard enough to bruise.

"I'm serious." He put his hands on Prophet's shoulders and pushed him back. "I'm not a savior. I love my sister, that's all. And I can't promise that, in the future, I won't put her first. She's my family. If it came down to it. If I had to make a choice." Simon shook his head, unable to finish his thoughts.

"I know." He raised one hand to Simon's face. His thumb caressed Simon's bottom lip. "But you're not alone anymore. Family's crap. The Alliance made sure we learned that. At least, the family you're born into. It's the family you make that counts. You won't have to choose. They'll be enough people to help so you won't be left to sacrifice everything again."

"I hope not."

There was a sudden crash from inside the operating room. Both Simon and Prophet jumped. Prophet released Simon so he could turn.

Dr. Douglas was yelling at Dr. Yasbor. Her face was red above her mask and she was gesticulating wildly. A tray of surgical instruments was on the floor, instruments scattered around.

"What's going on?"

Prophet shook his head, eyes narrowed. "Something with River," he said slowly. He cocked his head. "She's been sterilized."

"What?"

Dr. Yasbro stormed out of the operating room.

"Don't come back until you've calmed down!" Dr. Douglas shouted after her. "And tell Roger and Alicia to get down here."

"I will."

"What is going on, Doctor?" Simon demanded.

Dr. Douglas sighed. "River's been sterilized. She's had a complete hysterectomy. They replaced her ovaries with something. We're going to need to actually open her up and examine them, but I assume that it's processing enough estrogen into her body to compensate while leeching out the dehydroepiandrosterone and other hormones that might kick her sex drive into gear."

"Why the fuck didn't they just circumcise her while they were at it?" Prophet asked. He pulled away from Simon and Dr. Douglas and punched the nearest wall.

"This didn't happen to the other kids?" Simon asked. He grabbed Prophet by the collar and pulled him back.

She shook her head. "No. No, wait, that's wrong. There's one kid who we got out late. She's still in a coma. They did something. It looks like they tried to irradiate her or something. They doused her with some kind of radiation, trying to sterilize her."

"Did it work?"

"Sort of. We've taken some samples. Some of the eggs were viable. Most weren't." Her eyes flitted to Prophet. "A few of the girls had tubal litigations. And some of the boys had vasectomies."

"Not me."

Simon kissed Prophet's hand, which was bruised and swelling. "So what happens now?"

She sighed. "I can put the monitor in, but we're really going to need to see what those devices are doing."

"And Dr. Yasbro?"

"Sometimes it just gets too much for us. She just reached her limit, that's all. It happens." She sighed again and turned to Prophet. "Can you please check and see how River's doing? And maybe tell her what's going on?"

Prophet nodded. "This will be awhile. I'll be back." He kissed Simon. "It's not your fault," he whispered, mouth pressed against Simon's ear.

"Thank you." He turned and kissed Prophet before releasing his hand.

Prophet disappeared down the hall.

Simon closed his eyes against the tears that suddenly rose. "Why didn't I know this?" he asked. His throat was closed. It hurt to talk. "I should have known."

"There were so many reasons that she wouldn't be menstruating. Her body mass index is slightly below normal. The trauma that she went through at the Academy. The shock of going into space. The food. A lot of our girls here don't menstruate for a year or more after they're rescued. Some of them, like Camille, haven't even finished puberty. At least half the girls had to have their cycles induced just to get them started, to say nothing about keeping them regular. It's not your fault, Simon. You did everything you could."

He nodded. "I know. And I appreciate all your doing." He opened his eyes. Dr. Douglas shimmered through the layer of his tears. "It just seems that every new discovery reflects a personal failure of mine. I should have gotten her out sooner."

* * *

It was so quiet here. No one was around. River could hear the wind rustling leaves and through empty halls of the buildings nearby. The sun was shining and it was so warm. She tilted her face towards the sun, determined to drink it in. Maybe it was powerful enough to bring her back to life. 

Give her strength. She needed strength. This place wasn't peaceful. It was dead. It was wrong. She didn't like it.

"Where are we?"

River opened her eyes. Prophet was standing next to her, in her mind. He was dressed all in blue. His feet were bare, hands on his hips. His eyes were squinted against the light. He was frowning, looking at the landscape distrustfully.

"I don't know," River said. "Just somewhere. I come here sometimes."

"It's awful. Why?" He sat next to her.

"I just come. It pulls me here." River sighed. "I don't like it. It's too quiet. Something bad happened here."

Prophet nodded.

She looked at him. "Something's wrong with me, isn't there?"

"Yes, little brook. There is something wrong." He leaned against River, just his arm, pressed into hers. "The Alliance_ hun dan_ took out your reproductive organs. And, for extra added fun, they replaced ovaries with something no one's seen before. A prize in every box."

River's stomach turned. She slid her hands over her abdomen. Her eyes stung. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Prophet said, his voice rough, "that Kaylee will have to carry the kids. That you won't ever have to worry about that whole time of the month crap. And that you're going to have to put up with people looking at you with gorram pity in their eyes all the while being able to read their minds and knowing that what they're really feeling is relief."

She looked at him.

His smile was brilliantly brittle. "I'm a liar. I told your brother I wasn't... I don't want him to look at me like that."

River put her arm around him and kissed his cheek.

"Your other option," Prophet continued, "is to pretend that you don't understand what's going on. Play dumb. They won't look at you with pity, then. Just like you're crazy."

"They'll be relieved. Can't understand, doesn't matter."

"Exactly."

River sighed. "What will happen?"

"They'll put your monitor in, have it start analyzing, try to figure out what medication you need. Then, probably tomorrow, they'll put you under again and cut you open, try to see what's inside you."

She sniffed. This wasn't even real, all inside her mind, and she still felt like crying. "Not a baby." Her voice cracked.

Prophet's arms closed around her. He kissed her on the forehead. "No, mei mei. Not a baby. Never a baby."


	18. Chapter 18

The tea kettle had just come to a boil when the door to Garrison's room opened. Inara, kettle in hand, looked up to see Garrison standing just inside, hand still on the door knob. She smiled, lowered her eyelids, and poured the water into the cups before her.

"Care to join me?" she asked. She looked up at him through her lashes as she set the kettle back town.

The door closed. Garrison crossed the room. "This was the last thing I expected to find in my room," he said. He sank into the seat across from her, slowly, every muscle tensed as if expecting attack.

Inara inclined her head in acknowledgement. Carefully, eyes still lowered demurely, she picked up a long, round container and withdrew a match.

"You in particular seemed quite angry with me this morning," he continued.

"I found your statement to be in quite poor taste, all things considering," she replied. The match lit with a sharp snap and the bright smell of sulfur. Inara touched the flame to the wick of the candle set on the low table in front of her. Candle lit, she extinguished the match and set it aside. "However, I've time to think since then." She raised her eyes and met Garrison's full on.

"And your thoughts led you here."

"They did." She picked up the tea cups and held out one to him.

Garrison hesitated. "Ms. Serra..."

"Inara," she corrected. "Please."

"I don't know if this is appropriate."

"Perhaps more than sleeping with those you've rescued?" she suggested. She set the cups back on the table.

"I love Camille. I never intended to hurt her. And I only began..."

"Let me rephrase that, Garrison. I'm afraid you misunderstood." Inara rose and walked around the table until she was directly in front of him. "One of your doctors had a bit of a meltdown today over River."

"It happens. We all reach our limits. We try to keep that from happening, to detox and relax before..." He stopped talking. A look of understanding entered his eyes.

Inara sat on the table. She placed her hand on his knee. "When was the last time you really, truly relaxed? Just left everything about this school behind and trusted it to struggle through at least a few hours without you?" She reached behind her and picked up the cups again. "When," she asked, holding out one to him, "was the last time you did anything just for yourself?"

Once again, he hesitated, but, this time, he took the offered cup.

Inara smiled and touched hers to his delicately. They both drank.

"I think I've lived solely for others since opening this school. It's hard not to. Even when I'm in these walls, completely shielded from everything, my mind is with them." He touched his cup to hers this time. They drank again.

"Don't you think that's dangerous? What if there's a crisis and that's your breaking point? There's so many people relying on your. You owe it to them, not just yourself, to be as centered and relaxed as you can."

He smiled a lopsided smile. "And tell me, Inara, how to I achieve relaxation in a school full of people who view me as their savior?"

Moving together, they touched their cups together a final time and drank.

Inara took the cup from him and set them both on the table. Then, she took one of his hands. "You employ trained companions." Wrapping her hand around his, she pressed her thumb into the center of his. "Why not go to them?"

Garrison's eyes fluttered shut as Inara massaged his palms, starting with small circles and working outwards towards his fingers. "They're not here for me. They're here to help the kids adjust. Not just sexually, but for everything. They counsel the kids, teach them how to move, how to dress, how to seduce. Anything they might need while they're out in the 'verse."

"No one but the kids ever go to them?"

"Well. No." He opened his eyes. "I find it hard. I'm in charge. They all look to me for guidance and leadership."

"And you don't find any of this, in any way, hypocritical?"

"Camille needed me. The others I've been with needed me." He sighed. "Although, I needed Camille, too."

"Then why did you end it?" She took his other hand.

Garrison shrugged. "If you had seen her a year ago, you'd understand. She was so young. And she didn't want to grow up. To try anything new. When she was with me, she was safe. Sheltered. If I'd let her stay that way, I'd be no better than the Alliance."

"I don't understand."

"They wanted to control her. To build the perfect solider. And, with me, she wanted to be controlled. Whether she realized it or not, that's what she was allowing me to do. First, I tried to do what I could simply to make her start taking control of her own life. When that didn't work..." He trailed off and shrugged.

"But it's not easy."

"I love her still. I love the woman she's becoming." He sighed. "I suppose I wish that the woman she's becoming was still my woman."

"She's not."

"I know." He looked at her. "Malcolm Reynolds?"

Inara smiled sadly. "He's a good man. A noble man, and that's hard to find these days. Especially in the black."

"I want to be happy for her."

"What would make you happy for her?"

Garrison sighed and pulled his hand away. He rubbed his eyes, shoulders slumping. "Perspective."

Inara slid off the table, knelt at his feet. "Perspective?" She slid her hands up his thighs.

He moistened his lips. His hands, large, scarred, gentle, cupped Inara's face. He ran his fingers over her cheekbones, eyebrows, jaw, tracing her. Memorizing her.

Inara closed her eyes and leaned into the touch.

"I'm so tired," he whispered. He traced the shell of her ear, caressed down her neck.

"I know." She took his hands, stopping their exploration. "Come." She stood and pulled him with her to the bed. "Let give you rest."

* * *

"But, she's gonna be all right, right?" Kaylee said, clutching Zoe's arm. She felt dizzy. 

Dr. Douglas nodded. "All her tests came back normal. For an Academy student, that is. We have the monitor in. We've analyzed her blood chemistry and it's started normalizing her endocrine system."

"What does that mean?" Zoe asked.

"That means that, soon, she'll start functioning normally again. Her menstrual cycle will regulate, her genitals will have sensation, and her sex drive will turn on."

"When?" asked Kaylee.

"I can't say. It could be within the hour, it could be a month from now. We can't predict it, especially since we don't know what they replaced her ovaries with. But, yes, Kaylee, River will be all right."

"Except that they took out her uterus," said Zoe. "Did those bastards happen to do anything else why they were down there?"

"Like what?"

"I'm sure she's fine, Kaylee," Wash said, slipping his arm around Kalyee. He shook his head at Zoe. "Zoe's just being a little pessimistic. River's fine."

"How do you know, Wash? How do you know they didn't cut her up? It ain't unheard of, men cutting up their women so they don't feel anything."

"They cut her up?" Kaylee felt like she was going to throw up.

"No, they didn't cut her up," Dr. Douglas assured them. "Blocking the production of androgen made anything as extreme as circumcision moot. She can't feel anything in that region anyway."

Kaylee pulled away from Zoe and Wash. Grief like she'd never known was pushing at her, making her feel like she was drowning. All she wanted to do was cry, but it wouldn't come. It was just pressing inside her so she couldn't breathe and couldn't hear and couldn't talk. She felt like she was going to die.

"Kaylee," Zoe said behind her.

She shook her head. Didn't want to talk. She was at the wall now. She pressed her head against it.

Zoe's hand was on her shoulder. "Honey, it's going to be okay. River's going to be okay."

"Why did they do this?" The words were torn from her. Painfully. Her throat her. "I don't understand."

"I don't know." She squeezed Kaylee's shoulder.

"Would you two mind giving me a moment alone with Kaylee?"

"Kaylee? Wash and me will be just outside you need us, okay?"

She nodded, forehead scraping against the wall. She didn't hear them leave.

"Come here, honey. Sit with me." Hands again, pulling her away from the wall, propelling her across the room to a couch. She was pulled down to a couch, into a body. Warm body smell, shampoo, soap, and that stingy smell like a hospital. "All right, baby girl. You listen to me and you listen good. Those Alliance bastards are bastards. Doesn't matter why they did what they did. The fact is, they did it. And we've got to live with the consequences. Now, in some ways, you're lucky. You're a girl. If you were a boy, wouldn't matter how much you told River it was okay. A part of her would always feel a little guilty about not being able to give you a baby." She stroked Kaylee's hair. "But you're both girls. She doesn't have to feel guilty because, if you do want kids, you could have been the birth mother anyway.

Kaylee pulled away. Tears were falling down her face. "How can you be talkin' 'bout babies right now?"

Dr. Douglas smiled softly. "Seems relevant. I'm just trying to highlight the good, because there's a whole lotta bad in this place."

"I've noticed." She wiped her eyes.

"River loves you. Don't ever doubt that for a moment." She squeezed her arm. "But you need to prepare yourself for what may happen."

"Everyone's been telling me since I got here. Her system's gonna go into an overload and she's gonna want sex. A lot of it. Maybe more than I can give." She wiped at the tears again.

Dr. Douglas nodded. "Right. But now there's more."

"More?"

"Our kids here are very angry. Not at first, when they're still confused, but after we get the monitor in, their heads start to clear. It becomes easier to think. To process what happened to them. Then the anger sets in. And, with anger comes the need to lash out."

Kaylee sniffed. "You think River's gonna hurt me?"

"I think that, given the fact River's been sterilized, there's a good chance her anger at the Alliance will send her into the bed mainly of men."

"Cause she can't get pregnant," she said slowly. "And it's like... rubbing it in their faces or somethin'."

Dr. Douglas nodded. "The Alliance didn't want her to have sex. They didn't want her to have children. Now that she's free, she can at least have sex."

"But I understand. I mean, I know that River might... want sex. With people not me. It won't hurt. It can't, not really, not if I'm ready. Right?"

"I don't know if anyone can ever really prepare themselves for their lover to go to into someone else's bed. You might still be hurt, Kaylee, and that's fine. Feel whatever you feel in the coming weeks and months. However." She took both Kaylee's hands in her. Squeezed. Leaned in. "It's possible that River might try to hurt you on purpose. She might brag to you about who she is sleeping with. Use your bed. Make jokes. Be crass. Do any number of things to get a reaction from you. To make you cry."

Tears continued to flood from her eyes. Kaylee couldn't keep up. When Dr. Douglas handed her a tissue, it was soaked within seconds. "What can I do?"

"I don't know. Just be prepared for it. As much as you can." Then, she leaned forward and ran her fingers through Kaylee's hair. "Now listen to me, sweetheart. Because you need to hear this. Are you listening?"

Kaylee nodded. It was impossible to stop crying now, the tears just kept flooding out.

"No one will think any less of you if you had to break up with River."

"Never."

"Kaylee, listen to me. You have feelings, just like her. You deserve to be happy. You shouldn't be in a toxic relationship where your partner is doing her best to make you miserable. If it gets bad, leave. When she calms down, then you can work things. But don't stay if it's bad."

She sniffed and wiped her nose. "Can I see her now?"

The doctor sighed and sat back. "Of course. She's in the room, resting."

"Thank you."

Kaylee wiped her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. When she felt calm enough, she pushed the door opened and stepped into the room.

River was lying on the bed, awake. She was wearing on of the school's strange medical gowns, the ones that somehow looked pretty and flattered the wearer's figure, rather than look all business-like.

And River looked pretty. Even lying on the bed, chalk pale, tear stains on her cheeks, she was the most beautiful person Kaylee had ever known.

"Hey, you," she said softly, hesitating.

River turned her head and met her eyes. "Hey." She licked her lips. "You afraid of me?"

"Don't know. Don't think I should be. You're my girl, right?" Kaylee took a step closer to the bed.

"Am I?"

"I want you to be. The doc out there is messin' with my head. Scarin' me. And I've seen, you know. The anger. Not from you. Camille, though. Prophet. Not you."

"Not angry." She frowned. Tugged on her hair. "No. I am. Angry." She sat up. "Why did they do this?"

"I only wish I knew." Kaylee slid onto the bed next to her and tentatively put her hand on River's leg. "If I could get my hands on them that done it..."

"Get in line." River's mouth was pressed thin. Her cheeks had bright red spots on them and she trembled all over.

"Well." Kaylee smiled, embarrassed. "Yeah, I guess you should go first. You've got all that courage and stuff, right?"

River's eyebrow twitched. "Only because they trained me." She scratched her nails down her arms. "Not even my body. Took it all over. Played with my brains. My insides. Took me apart. Put together different and I'm... I'm tired of this!" River's hands threaded through her hair and she tugged at it, looking like she was trying to claw her brain.

Kaylee took River's hands. Wrapped her own around them. And kissed her. Soft. Gentle. Deep.

River's mouth opened and met her kiss. Deepened it. Moved closer to Kaylee, sensing her intent. Probably read her mind, although Kaylee didn't rightly know if she were thinking. Just acting on instinct, what she were good at.

Hands came down, two sets of them. Unwrapped River's robe and dropped it over the side. Kaylee lay River down on the bed and kept kissing. Kissing her mouth, her face, the skin on her neck. Every bit, not leaving on inch not touched by lips and tongue. Tasting the salt from her sweat. A slight metallic taste. Touch of bitter. All River.

Down the long swan neck. Over collar bone to the soft skin that dipped beneath. Kaylee kissed.

Something there made River shift suddenly, eyes flying open. Moan and a flush to her cheek. Sweat breaking out all at once. Breath caught. Hands tangled in Kaylee's hair, gripping her now, pushing and tugging.

Kaylee kept going. Over soft fleshy swells. Rosy buds of nipples that pearled and puckered. Taut belly, sharp hips. The juncture of her thighs and then between 'em.

"Oh!" River bolt up real fast, hands falling away.

"You can feel?"

She didn't answer, just nodded, all wide eyes and open mouth.

Kaylee laughed, delighted. "Then something went right today, didn't it? Your body now. Not theirs."

"Not yet." River smiled and cupped Kaylee's face in her hands. "Finish what you started?"

"Every day." Kaylee raised herself up to River's face. Kissed her. "Every night." Kissed again. "For the rest of our lives." Longer kiss this time. And, for the first time, there was passion coming from River. In her arms, the way her fingers dug into Kaylee's back.

"Too many clothes." She tugged at Kaylee's clothes while wrapping those long, dancer legs around her body. "Too far away."

"Don't worry," Kaylee whispered as she pulled her clothes off, all the while kissing her girlfriend. "Soon we'll be close as two people can be. We'll be like one person."

River gripped at Kaylee's naked shoulders and looked at her. "You gonna keep talking? Or will you make love to me?"

Kaylee smiled, kissed River, then bent back to her task.


End file.
